


Dare's Story

by StuffandThangs11



Series: A Lion Tamed [5]
Category: Criminal Minds, Original Work
Genre: Abduction, Blow Jobs, Bondage, Dildos, Drug Use, Electrocution, Emasculation, Emotional Manipulation, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Enemas, Erotic Electrostimulation, Feminization, First Time, First Time Blow Jobs, Forced Feminization, Gang Rape, Hand Jobs, Human Trafficking, Humiliation, Kidnapping, Manipulation, Medical Procedures, Minor Character Death, Multi, Non-Consensual Blow Jobs, Non-Consensual Bondage, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Non-Consensual Voyeurism, Psychological Torture, Psychological Trauma, Psychologists & Psychiatrists, Rape, Rape/Non-con Elements, Tattoos, Torture, Verbal Abuse, Verbal Humiliation, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-17
Updated: 2017-02-07
Packaged: 2018-08-09 09:48:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 10
Words: 26,626
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7797085
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StuffandThangs11/pseuds/StuffandThangs11
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is a short(?) story of one of the minor original characters in <a href="http://archiveofourown.org/series/435904">A Lion Tamed</a>. It can stand on its own but reading about the world of A Lion Tamed is a good idea.</p><p>The world is very dark and twisted. If you are triggered by non-consensual rape elements, this isn't the fic for you.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

_My sweet Dare. You can do it. Just don't over think it. I double-dog dare you..._

A person would think that a man named Dare would walk a little bit on the wild side throughout his life. Those assumptions would be wrong. The only son of Philip and Marie, Daren 'Dare' Brooks has lived a quiet, solitary life. He was raised on his father's ranch and still works there to this day.

In spite of his imposing appearance, a height of six feet seven inches and broad shoulders, Dare is quiet and thoughtful. He's methodical in his work with horses and cattle. For Dare, it's easier to be around animals than humans. It always has been.

When Dare was a kid he was very shy and never made any lasting friendships. He's always been on the periphery of life; from child, to teen, to adult.

_I dare you to go talk to them. Go make some friends, Dare._

The only real excitement he's ever seen is a short stint on the local rodeo circuit. His mom got him into that hoping it would help him become less of an introvert. He gracefully bows out of it eventually. It wasn't that he isn't any good at it. He did pretty well for himself in the arena with roping and bull riding. There were just too many people for him to be comfortable. Dare's never been good with people.

When he was nineteen his mom died of cancer. There was no one to push him outside of his comfort zone then. His dad was and is as content to stay on the ranch as Dare is.

Now he's twenty-six years old and he's still that same shy, polite boy who works the ranch, goes to Cowboy church on Sundays with his dad, comes straight back home to be with the animals.

He has a bloodhound named Molly and a cat that was his mom's that he adopted when she died. The cat's name is Clementine, Clem for short.

Nothing spectacular about Daren. So how did he get the nickname Dare? There's nothing spectacular about that either. His mom, when she was still alive, shortened it to Dare. She would call him 'my sweet Dare' all the time. The name stuck.

And when she was trying to get him to break out of a shell he's never been able to break out of, she'd tell him 'I dare you' when she was trying to get him to do one thing or another. She'd dare him to do simple things like go play with those kids, try that new sport or go talk to the girl she thought he liked. Sometimes that worked. Most of the time it didn't.

_My sweet Dare. I dare you to be daring. I dare you..._

Out in the country life is slow. It's perfect for Dare. There's a routine to follow, things that need doing that are necessary. Dare likes routine. It's hard for him to process everything when it goes too fast. Unless it has to do with the livestock or any of his pets, Dare needs time to think things through before he acts or reacts to them.

The only time he gets off of the ranch anymore is for Cowboy church or to go in to the grocery store. The closest grocery store is just over forty miles away. He usually takes his truck for that. The Cowboy church, a hub for all the small towns and ranches in the area, is about twenty miles away. The horses go to church with him.

Every Sunday, as long as the weather's good or there isn't a crisis on the ranch, his dad and him put on their best jeans, boots and western shirts and ride in to Cowboy church on their horses. They sit in the back pew through services, then Dare waits at the horses until his dad has said all of his hello's and how do you do's.

When his dad gets back over to him, they mount up and ride. Every Sunday is the same. Every Sunday they cross the highway and take the same dirt roads back to the ranch. When they get to their long dirt drive, Molly always runs out down the road from the porch to meet them.

They get there and Dare can already see Molly lumbering their way at full speed. Dare has raised Molly from a pup. She likes to be wherever he is but is also resigned to stay put when he tells her to.

This particular Sunday, there's a shiny, sleek car on the dirt road. Its cleanliness looks out of place on the ranch. This particular Sunday, no matter how far to the shoulder of the road he and his dad get, the car seems to be heading straight for them.

A big piece of metal coming right for them? Of course the horses spook. Dare's mount whinnies and canters sideways. He looks back and sees the mount his dad is on rear up and throw him. His dad hits the ground hard. For a man of almost seventy, it's not good for him to hit the ground that hard. 

Dare spins around and dismounts, running for where his father lays in the brush. "Dad?"

"I'm all right son. Just got my head jarred pretty good is all." His dad says. "Help me up."

Dare is in the process of helping his dad up when he feels a prick in the back of his neck. He reaches back there and pulls something from his skin. Upon close inspection, it looks like a dart. It takes Dare a moment to process this.

"What's that?" His dad asks.

"I don't know. It's..."

The world shifts sideways and Dare stumbles back into the tall grass to get his bearings. What the hell just happened? It felt like the earth beneath his boots moved. His hands claw at the grass and press into the ground just to reassure himself that the world is still beneath him. Gravity still works.

He has to force himself to think through what just happened. A car. The horses. His dad. Molly. Molly is in front of him licking his face. How did she get here to quickly?

Philip has reached down to put a hand in Dare's short, sandy blond hair. "Son?".

The car. There's never a car on this road unless someone is specifically coming out to see his dad. Something isn't right.

Dare looks up to his dad just as he hears gunfire. There's a hole in his dad's brow, blood is trickling from it. Another hits his dad's chest and Philip goes down again. Dare's heart feels like it stutters in his chest.

He can't process this. It's too much.

_I dare you, my sweet Dare. I dare you to get up and do something._

Dare tries to push himself up but falls back to the ground. He tries again and the world feels like it's swaying back and forth.

Time seems to shift again. Dare is up on his feet, hauled up by someone, or maybe there's more than one person. His wrists are bound behind his back and he's being led to a car. He vaguely hears Molly barking and growling.

"He's even bigger up close. They're gonna love working with him."

"Pretty too. Guys back at the compound are gonna have fun with him." Dare feels a slap against his shoulders. "Ain't that right, pretty boy? Gonna have some fun."

There's laughter.

"Ketamine's already doing its thing. His mind is getting fucked up."

Again, time moves. It moves just in time to see the trunk door slam shut on him, shrouding him in darkness.

His mind gives in to whatever is pulling him under then. The dark hurts less than the light.

 

* * *

 

When Dare wakes up enough to take note of his surroundings, his mind is still a groggy haze. It's like he's in a dream, a horrible, terrible dream. He's in a wooden box about the size of a coffin. There are wooden walls all around him. He's so big that he barely has an inch of room to move on all sides.

His hands are still bound behind him, his arms numb from being pinned between his back and the wooden bottom of the box.

One of the more unnerving things is that he's naked. Why is he naked? When did his clothes come off? He's never been naked in public before, if this can be called public. What's happening?

There's the rumble of a motor and the occasional bump and shift that happens with driving on a road. He's in a vehicle. Was he kidnapped? Do people his age and size get kidnapped?

Dare can hear his own breath coming quick as panic spikes. His heartbeat is thudding loudly in his ears. He has to consciously make himself breathe slow, calm down.

He tries to push at the top of the crate with his feet. With so little room he can't get much purchase and it doesn't even creak at all.

He tries to shift to his side so he can work the bindings at his wrists free. There's no room for him to be on his side. So he just lifts up as much as he can and works on his bindings in short increments of time. They don't budge and he's just tiring himself out.

_I dare you to get through this._

His mom's voice, always present in his mind to get him to the next thing, to help him do the things he needs to do whether he wants to do them or not.

Since she died, he's always felt her with him. Like she's his guardian angel.

"Help." He whispers to her, as if she can hear him. He hopes she can hear him.

His thoughts turn to his dad. Did that really happen? Everything happened so fast. His mind was playing tricks on him. Maybe it didn't...

No. He would never dream up something like that, even drugged. Dare loves his dad too much for that. Damn it. What's happening?

His eyes fill with tears and he starts crying. It's okay to cry right now. No one is watching. It's just him in this box. He can cry and he needs to cry.

"Help." He says again, hoping his mom is listening, hoping he's not as alone as he feels.

_My sweet Dare. I dare you to get through this._

 

* * *

 

Whatever drug they gave him is potent. Dare sleeps again. And again. One time when he's awake he feels the box he's in hefted up and moving. He tries to figure out if he should say something to whoever is out there, let them know he's in here. Are they friend or foe?

"Damn, he's heavy. Must be a big son of a bitch." One of the men says.

Then there's another voice. "Yeah, he's tall. Been working on a ranch his whole life so he's built like a brick house."

"Do you know what they're gonna do with him? Thought the Mistress liked twinks."

The Mistress? Twinks? Dare has no idea what these things mean.

"I think her interests are expanding. She's been asking for specific types of pets to fuck with. I think she's building herself a whole nest of pets. No idea what the plan is here." The box is set down none too gently. "She just asked for someone big and built. This guy was easy. Saw him at the grocery store a few months back, learned his routine."

Someone has been following him for months. That realization is shocking to Dare, who's never stepped outside of his comfort zone, who's always toed the line and never been in any trouble. Now he's in a whole heap of trouble.

There's a laugh. "The ones who have a routine are always the easiest to get. When did you get him?"

"Coming home from church."

Someone laughs again. "Well praise Jesus!"

Their voices fade away. These men are definitely not gonna help him. He hears the rolling door of the back of a van slide shut. Eventually another motor starts and he's moving again.

Could he have done something there? Should he have said something? Should he have tried to get out? Dare's a strong guy. He could probably take two men if he isn't drugged.

This is the problem Dare has always had. He takes too long to think about things before he does them. His dad is, or was, the same way. His mom was always the one who pushed them forward. Now Dare doesn't have either of them.

His thoughts start to spiral.

_Don't let yourself get down in the dumps. I dare you to rise above it. I dare you to move past it. I dare you to be daring._

Even though his eyes are still puffy with tears, Dare almost smiles. He can rise above it and move past it. He just has to think a little quicker next time, be better prepared. Dare can come up with a plan before anything else happens. He can do this.

He can be daring.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is a short(?) story of one of the minor original characters in [A Lion Tamed](http://archiveofourown.org/series/435904). It can stand on its own but reading about the world of A Lion Tamed is a good idea.
> 
> The world is very dark and twisted. If you are triggered by non-consensual rape elements, this isn't the fic for you.

The crate is lifted and changed from vehicle to vehicle one more time. This time Dare jostles his weight around as much as he can in the confined space. His skin will be scuffed up from his efforts but he wants to make carrying him as difficult as possible.

The men holding the crate actually drop one end. His head is jarred pretty hard and he hears the crack of wood at the corner by one of his ears and mentally cheers himself on even if there's nothing he can do with it.

"Fuck!" The entire box vibrates with the kick of a boot at it's side. "You settle down in there, you hear me you piece of shit?"

The box is hefted up again and Dare starts flailing himself around again. His entire body aches. It does no good because the box is set down and a fist bangs on the top of it.

"You do that again, there's gonna be more drugs."

The warning isn't lost on him. Dare's mind is only just starting to be completely clear of the one and only dose he's had. Whatever it is, it's incredibly powerful, even for a guy his size.

Dare doesn't move an inch until he hears the men walk away, the rolling door loudly slides shut and the engine starts up. The jury is in and his sentence, whatever it is, has been passed down. They're on the move again.

With the drugs, it's hard to tell how long they've been traveling. It feels like a long time. Given his blackouts, it's probably been longer than a long time. They're taking him far away from home. Dare's never been this far away, or very far at all. There's something very scary about that.

Who's gonna find his dad? The work hands when they come in on Monday morning, probably. What will they think when they find a dead body, two horses loose and Dare missing?

Who'll feed Molly and let her lick their face? Who'll bring her in at night and let her sleep in their bed?

What's gonna happen to the cattle and the horses? What will happen to Clem the cat?

Dare feels tears threaten again. This time he holds them back. He's cried enough. Crying isn't going to help the situation.

_I double-dog dare you to be strong._

He has to be strong.

 

* * *

 

By the time the vehicle stops again, Dare is at a very low point. He's had too much time to think about what happened back at the ranch, too much time to worry over it, too much time to blame himself for doing too little.

On top of that, he's had to piss and did the only the he could do. The box he's in smells of his own urine. He's been smelling it for long enough that he can't really smell it anymore.

His mind is just in a dark place.

The box is hefted up again. He's carried out of the van, at least that's his assumption. Dare hears voices outside. There are murmurs at first that he can't hear or understand. Then, as the crate is carried closer to them, he starts to make out the words.

First, a woman with a thick accent. "I have been looking over the photos you sent of him. He would make a lovely pet."

"Would? You mean you aren't gonna use him?" A man says. "Not that I care, Mistress. Getting this one was time consuming, but easy."

"I find him very attractive, of course. It always depends on how they respond to my treatments. If all goes well, he will be mine. I will have him molded into the perfect pet to fit into my growing collection."

"So you _are_ collecting a group. The boys were wondering... after the twins. I mean two is one thing. Now you've got four."

"And soon I will have five if this one proves malleable under the plan I have laid out for him." The woman says. "Take him to the Brutes in the Catacombs first."

"Yes, Mistress."

When the box starts moving again, Dare realizes that he'd been holding his breath. He gasps air into his lungs and makes himself breathe again. His breaths sound very loud to him even though he knows they aren't any louder than normal. It's just his nerves making everything heightened and magnified.

Some woman called the Mistress has plans for him. What kind of plans? What is the Catacombs?

Dare is trying so hard not to panic that he almost misses the shift in the box that says he's being taken down stairs. He only realizes it when the box straightens out again. Then they go down another flight. Another. He hears beeps in between each flight.

He's being taken underground. He isn't sure he's ever been so terrified in his life. The unknown, in this instance, is a frightening thing.

The box is finally set down with a heavy thud that jars Dare's head pretty good. He lays there in the dark, listening to his own shallow breaths - in and out, breathe in and out - as people outside of the box start talking.

"He's a big one. You got the Mistress's plan?"

"Yeah, we got it. Saw the pictures. This is gonna be fun."

"Did you really nab him coming back from church?"

"Yeah. Pretty easy too. Once the ketamine started working, he was ours."

"Okay man, we'll take it from here."

"Don't need me to stay and make sure there isn't any trouble?"

"Nah, we got it. We'll take good care of him."

Dare hears someone, presumably the man who'd kidnapped him and killed his dad, walk away. He feels tears threaten again at the thought of his dad and pushes all of that away. He can't do that right now. He has to be present, in the now, in the unknown.

For awhile he's left in the box. He hears softly murmured conversations. He hears people shuffling around outside. At one point, he hears the wood of the crate creak above him as if someone has sat down on top of the box.

Should he say something? Should he make some noise? No. Not yet. Right?

It's too much. Dare has no idea what to think or what to do. He isn't good with people. He isn't good with life off of the ranch. Especially not people like this, people who abduct other people.

He's internalizing everything. He's thinking too much.

_I dare you to calm down._

Dare takes deep, shallow breaths. Several of them. He calms down and still he waits.

When the latches on the box are finally thrown, they startle him. They seem very loud after so much quiet. The lid is opened and Dare gasps the first breath of clean air that he's had in awhile. He hadn't realized how stifled and stagnate the air in the crate was. 

The darkness in the box suddenly fills with light. The light isn't exceptionally bright by normal standards, but after being in the dark for so long it seems far brighter than it is. Dare squints up into it and tries to sit up. A boot lands at the middle of his chest to push him back down. He can't see the man's face because his eyes are still adjusting, but the boot holds him down.

"Well aren't you pretty." The man says.

There are others around him that Dare can't quite make out. Dare is instantly reminded that he's naked and feels a flush of heat in his skin. If his arms weren't still restrained behind him, he'd try to cover himself.

"Name's Dare, huh? That's a good name." The man with the boot on his chest continues. "Tall, broad, built. Look at that six pack, boys. Those arms and shoulders. He's pretty, isn't he?"

There are murmurs from the other men of agreement. Dare wishes he could disappear. He's never been called pretty before. He's never had anyone stare at him while he doesn't have a stitch on either.

"He's got a big dick." One of the men off to the side says.

Another chimes in. "Gonna be fun to play with."

Boot to chest man chuckles wickedly and leans down over Dare. "What do you say? You ready to play?"

As his vision has started to adjust a little bit, Dare is shocked to find that this man looks normal. He isn't sure what he expected. But surely the man with salt and pepper hair, a light stubble and sparkling blue eyes should look more like a monster. Kidnappers are monsters.

He decides not to answer him. Dare doesn't even glare. He's never been a mean person. He's never been prone to anger. Dare is quiet and sweet, really. He settles for looking resolute in not engaging with the man.

This only serves to amuse his captor further. Boot to chest man laughs again and snaps his fingers.

Another man steps forward to grab one of Dare's feet. Before Dare can realize what's happening, a needle is shoved into the skin between his toes. He jerks his foot back and away but it's too late. Whatever was in the needle is inside of him now.

Two men haul Dare up to his feet. He hasn't used his legs in awhile either and he feels a little unsteady on them. The shift from horizontal to upright also makes him dizzy. Or maybe it's whatever they just gave him. Maybe it's a combination of the two.

The world gets fuzzy around the edges as he's hauled from one room to a smaller one with men all around him. He thinks he counts five. Maybe six.

The new room has concrete walls, floor and ceiling. He notices a drain in the middle of the floor and only has a moment to wonder what it's for when he's hit with frigid water, sprayed at him from a hose. He instinctively shivers as he's hosed down.

Once that's done, he's led to a slim metal table that he's pushed face down on. His wrists are untied and his arms are pulled down to either side where his wrists are strapped to hold them in place. His legs are spread, knees folded so that his hips are slightly lifted up. Ankles strapped to hold them in place.

Dare is trying to remain present. He's trying to keep his mind clear. But everything happens very fast even while Dare's world, his mind and body and soul, have slowed down. It's like he blinks once, twice, thrice, and here he is strapped down to the cold metal table in a most vulnerable position.

He's aware enough for it to be jarring, upsetting and humiliating, especially once all is said and done and he feels a hard slap to his ass that makes his entire body jerk against his restraints.

One hand reaches between his thighs and pulls his cock away from where it's rested between his abdomen and the table. His cock is pulled down in an uncomfortable position, the table keeping it in place.

"There we go. Now you're all set up, pretty boy."

Dare's cock is stroked a few times. He feels the prick of another needle, this time in the round of his buttock. Then another one that follows immediately after that one. Whatever they're giving him is altering his mental and emotional state. He's still very much aware of what's happening, but he's having to work harder and harder to maintain a calm, to maintain control over his emotions.

He hates that his cock is hard in some other man's hand. It's embarrassing. Dare isn't a person who's had a lot of experience with sex. He's had sex with a woman once. Other than that, he's only pleased himself in that way. This is... too much. It's wrong. At least for him, it's wrong.

"Oh yeah, look at him. Hard as a rock. He's hungry for it."

"Fucking slut."

What? No. He's not hungry for this, whatever it is. He's not a slut. Dare makes an attempt to pull at his restraints but he has no purchase in this position. His limbs feel like jelly. His mind is on his side, making him attempt to pull at the bindings and then his mind is somewhere else, it's with the hand stroking his cock.

For as much as Dare tries not to let himself, in the end he has no control. His body shudders with arousal. Heat pools in the pit of his groin and he cums. Even with the heightened orgasm he's aware enough to feel shame.

There's another slap to his ass and Dare feels tears prick at his eyes. He tries to stop the tears but these men and whatever drugs they've given him has taken away his control over that. In fact, he feels overly emotional right now, more so than he's ever been. He's openly crying and obviously frightened and humiliated.

"Just what I thought, slut."

The man with the blue eyes and peppered hair comes into Dare's line of vision. He pets Dare's short hair back away from his brow. The act could be considered nice and pleasant, a reassurance that things would be okay if not for the dichotomy of his current predicament. "I know you're confused. I know you're scared. Just know we're gonna set things right for you, Dare. We're gonna help you become who and what you were always meant to be."

What was he always meant to be? Dare's fine with who he is. He can't imagine being anything else. Any confusion he has isn't about himself. It's about this situation, these men.

The room is emptied and Dare is left alone on the table by himself.

 

* * *

 

He's left like this for a long time. Again, alone with his own thoughts, none of which are good. The additive of his emotional state being out of his control in thanks to whatever they gave him leaves him with several self-induced panic attacks.

Dare is almost thankful when the doors open again, just so that he can get outside of his own head space.

Salt and pepper guy enters, followed by another man. There's something in salt and pepper's hand, and as he gets closer, Dare notices it's shaped like a cock, it's a flesh colored dildo.

"Hello, pretty boy." Salt and pepper says. "I want you to tell me your name. Who are you?"

The man already knows his name. They've established that. But Dare answers anyway. "Dare."

"Oh now, you can do better than that." Salt and pepper's lips are close to his ear. "Use a full sentence. What's your name?"

"My name is Dare?" He says, although it comes out as a question.

The other brute calls him on it. "Is that a question?"

"My name is Dare."

"Much better." Salt and pepper says as he slides the tip of what feels like the dildo down Dare's spine. "Now I want you to watch my friend over there."

Dare is terrified of what's about to happen with that dildo. His shock when he rests his cheek against the metal to look at the other man almost overrides that terror. Salt and pepper's friend has his dick out and is stroking himself, slow and steady.

He doesn't want to watch it. Dare keeps trying to look up into the man's eyes. The more he tells himself not to look, the more he feels compelled to look. Dare closes his eyes.

"His eyes are closed."

A slap to Dare's ass makes him open his eyes. "Nuh-uh-uh, Dare. I tell you what to do and you do it. What did I tell you to do?" Another hard, stinging slap. "Answer me."

"To watch."

"Full sentences."

"You told me to watch him."

"So do it." Salt and pepper says. "What's your name?"

Dare watches the other brute's hand as it slides over his own cock. He's never watched anything like this. He doesn't understand why he has to watch it now. "My name is Dare."

"What are you, Dare?" Salt and pepper presses the dildo to Dare's tight hole that's never had anything put inside of it, not ever.

What is he? How does he answer that? "I'm... just a guy."

"Wrong." The dildo is pushed harder against his dry hole. "What are you, Dare?"

He watches the man jerking off, feels the pressure at his ass where something eventually is going to have to give. How does he answer that question. "I'm a rancher."

"Wrong."

He feels a burn and stretch as the dildo is pushed in. Dare starts crying again. He can't seem to stop. This is too much for him to process. He doesn't understand.

Salt and pepper continues. "What are you, Dare?"

"I don't know! I don't know what you want me to say." He cries out.

The dildo is pulled out of his ass and salt and pepper comes into his line of vision to pet at his hair. "Good. That's good. We need to get to the truth of things, right? Right."

The brute pulls back and gets a small tube from his pocket. He spreads what Dare assumes is lubricant on the dildo. Then Dare has line of sight on the brute giving himself a hand job.

This time when the dildo is pushed against his ass, it goes in easier even if the stretch is still painfully uncomfortable.

"You know what I don't like, Dare?" Salt and pepper says. "I don't like the words 'I don't know'. From now on, when you don't know the answer to something, we're just gonna go straight for the truth. Instead of saying 'I don't know', you're gonna say 'I'm not very smart, Sir. I'm stupid'. You got that?"

Again, it's too much between what the two brutes are doing right now. But those words strike a particular chord with Dare. He's always been a little slower than most. Not stupid. He just takes a bit longer than is usual to get to the right thing, the answers, the right path to take. It's always been enough for people to notice and tease him about being slow, although they've used cruder terms than slow to get under his skin.

And now...

"What's your name?" Salt and pepper asks, pumping the dildo deeper and deeper into Dare.

"My name is Dare." His voice sounds small, even to him. He hates that he's crying. He hates that he's so emotional right now.

"What are you, Dare?"

"Please..." He whispers.

"Please what?"

"Stop."

"Stop what?"

"Everything. Stop everything. Just stop!" He jerks at his restraints, but once again, he has no purchase to really do anything.

The dildo is unceremoniously slammed into him and he feels a jolt as it hits something sensitive that he feels throughout his entire self from head to toe. Dare makes a strange sound, unsure if it actually came from him. He watches the other man jerk off. He feels all the heat from that jolt pool low in his groin. His cock is hard against the metal table.

"What are you, Dare?"

Dare makes a frustrated sound, trying to will himself to quit crying, to quit reacting to these people. Dare isn't usually a reactive person.

The dildo is pumped inside of him again. "What are you, Dare?"

He doesn't know. He doesn't know what they want him to say. And right now, he's confused about who and what he is anyway. He isn't acting and reacting like he normally would.

So finally, he whispers the words he knows will bring an end to whatever this is, no matter how much he hates them. "I'm not very smart, Sir. I'm stupid."

That earns him a gentle pet along the length of his spine. "We know you're stupid, pretty boy. Your looks are all you have going for you."

The dildo is still sticking out of his ass and Dare feels a hand on his cock, stroking him in time with the tempo the other brute is stroking himself. He cums shortly after that.

Salt and pepper leans down close to his ear again. "Don't worry though. We're gonna help you with that."


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is a short(?) story of one of the minor original characters in [A Lion Tamed](http://archiveofourown.org/series/435904). It can stand on its own but reading about the world of A Lion Tamed is a good idea.
> 
> The world is very dark and twisted. If you are triggered by non-consensual rape elements, this isn't the fic for you.

What are you, Dare? What are you?

The question is posed to him three more times before he's allowed to sleep. He's fucked with the dildo three more times. He watches a man jerk himself off three more times. He calls himself too stupid to know what he is three more times. Salt and pepper promises that he'll help Dare with his own stupidity three more times.

Finally, there's silence. There's nothing in his ass. He's left strapped to the table in the dimly lit concrete room all by himself.

He hurts in places and in ways he never has before. When he closes his eyes he sees a man jerking himself off. Dare tries to shake this off. Eventually he does, but it takes awhile.

Dare turns his head in every direction, getting a better look at the room. There's only one thing he hadn't noticed before. There's a blinking red light in the corner at the ceiling. Is this being recorded? Another wave of embarrassment hits him like a bulldozer.

No one has fucked him yet. Not really. The dildo was unpleasant, but he hasn't really been... But will they?

Once again, he thinks about the guy jerking himself off. He thinks about a time when that man might want something else, something Dare doesn't want to give him. In the position he's in now, he wouldn't be able to stop them.

His mind is a whirlwind of images and thought that he's trying to shut down for his own sanity. He doesn't want to see another man's dick. He doesn't want to worry about what might be put in his ass next. He doesn't want to hear his own voice calling himself stupid.

_I dare you to think about something else, my sweet Dare. I double-dog dare you._

Dare closes his eyes and thinks about the smell of hay. The feel of Molly's fur under his palm. The way it makes him smile when she licks his face.

He thinks about horses and cattle. He thinks about the way his dad's eyes crinkled at the corners when he smiled. He thinks about his mom singing to him when he was a kid. He thinks about the work hands that he considers friends, men he's never had to use a lot of words with in order to be accepted by them.

Dare thinks about sitting on top of his horse, looking up into the sun and letting the heat of the day embrace him.

Finally, Dare sleeps.

 

* * *

 

Dreams are strange. They can morph two worlds together in the most wonderful or horrible of ways. His starts out okay. He's in the kitchen at the ranch. His mom is alive and there's the smell and sizzle of bacon cooking on the stove. His dad is sitting in a chair at the table pulling on his boots.

The memory is picturesque. At least it is for a little while.

Then his dad comments about his lack of clothing. His mom looks embarrassed for him. Dare is naked and there's a man next to him stroking his dick.

Salt and pepper steps up behind him and wraps his arms around him before stroking Dare's dick. "What are you, Dare?"

Dare doesn't want to say the words in front of his parents. When he was little they'd noticed he was a little slower than the other kids, way too shy and prone to hiding. They'd put him through several medical tests to make sure there wasn't anything seriously wrong. No, Dare is fine. He's just slow.

But something about those memories and what he's prompted to say now in front of them makes his insides twist in uncomfortable ways.

"Answer me." Salt and pepper prompts. "Tell them the truth, Dare."

His parents look at him expectantly.

"I'm not very smart, Sir. I'm stupid." He whispers.

His parents look disappointed. Dare wants to wake up. He wants out of here. But then he's on the table, strapped down. He's made to cum in front of his family.

What are you, Dare? What are you?

 

* * *

Dare wakes on the metal table. The metal has warmed to his skin in some places. It's cool to the touch in others. His muscles hurt from being in this position too long. Still, he can't move anything but his head, fingers and toes.

The heavy metal door eventually creaks open. Light pours in from the hallway. A man comes into the room and turns on the hose.

He thinks he knows what's coming. But instead of cold spray to wash him down, the hose is pushed up his ass. Dare cries out at the rough intrusion. Then he pants as cold water fills his bowels.

"Hold it in." The Brute says.

Dare shakes his head and that earns him a slap to his ass.

"You're the only one who can determine how you're treated here, shit head." The man says. "Do as you're told, things will get better. Piss us off, you'll wish you hadn't. Now hold it in until I say."

The hose is removed and, in spite of the cramping, Dare holds the water in for what feels like forever. When he's finally allowed to release it, everything that was inside of him comes out.

This is repeated two more times before Dare is sprayed down. The metal table is no longer warm in some places. Everything is freezing cold.

Cold water is still dripping from Dare and the metal table as the man goes back out to the hallway and returns with a little black box.

"Time for your meds." The man says.

Dare jerks at his restraints. Whatever they'd given him yesterday had made him overly emotional and torn down any defenses he usually has. They'd blurred the world but not enough for him to block anything out, just enough that he remained present, but somewhat sedated and malleable.

"We've tweaked a few things. Don't worry though, we'll get it right."

Three different needles are used on him, just like yesterday. Dare says nothing. He decides not to engage in any way, shape or form.

The Brute's palm rubs at and squeezes Dare's buttocks. "You've got a really nice ass, Dare. Hope you stick around long enough for us to use it."

Dare wants to ask where the hell he would go. He's tied to a table. But again, he chooses not to engage. It's better when he can be detached, when he doesn't feel compelled to use words.

As the Brute leaves the room, Dare starts to feel that barrier slip away. The world becomes softer, more pliable. He hates what the drugs do to him.

The door is left open and Dare hears some voices out in the hallway. It isn't long before Salt and pepper comes into the room along with another man. Immediately, the other Brute unzips his pants and pulls his cock out. He starts stroking himself.

Dare wants to look away but knows that he'll just be told to watch.

Salt and pepper pets a hand over Dare's spine. "If you're a good boy, we'll make them warm up the water for you. Would you like that, Dare?"

Dare nods.

"Use words. Words like 'yes, sir' and 'no, sir'."

"Yes, Sir." Dare says. He wants warm water. Right now, with chills still wreaking havoc with his body, warm water seems like a luxury. To get that, he's going to have to engage.

"Alright then, we'll see how you do today." Salt and pepper says. "What's your name?"

"My name is Dare."

"What are you, Dare?"

There's that question. The one he's having a hard time answering, the one that haunted him in his dreams/nightmares. Dare tries to think of the right answer so that he doesn't have to say those words again. He tries to come up with an appropriate response, something where he isn't calling himself stupid.

"I'm..." He hesitates. Then he feels something round pressing against his asshole. The dildo. He hadn't even realized that the Brute had it with him again. "Please. N-..."

Dare stops just short of saying no. He wants warm water. He knows he won't get it if he says no.

"What are you, Dare?"

"I'm... uhm..." Think. He has to think. But between the drugs and the feeling of something pressing against his ass, it's hard to think.

"Have you ever had a dick in your mouth, Dare?"

The question completely derails him. He's suddenly acutely aware of the Brute jerking himself off. "No."

"No what?"

"No... Sir." He says. "Please, I don't..."

"Have you ever had a dick in here?" The pressure increases at his ass, causing the dry canal to stretch and burn.

Dare knows that they can do whatever they want to him right now. He can't fight them. He can't do anything but lay here and take it. "No, Sir."

"Don't worry. We're gonna help you with that."

"I don't want it." Dare shakes his head. "I'm not gay."

"No, you're not gay. You're not straight either. You take it any way you can get it."

Dare wonders who this stranger is that Salt and Pepper is talking about. It's not him. "N-no..."

"Yes. Let us show you." Salt and Pepper leans down. "Because what you are, what you always wanted to be, what you're _meant_ to be, is a fuck toy."

Dare shakes his head again and feels his heart rate ricochet up into his throat. "No."

"Yes. You're a fuck toy."

The dildo is shoved up inside of Dare and a strangled cry escaped him and echoes off of the walls in the room. It hurts so damn bad. He feels tears prick at his eyes.

The Brute jerking himself off comes closer to the head of the table. Salt and Pepper positions Dare's head stretched back. Dare shakes his head.

"Taste him, Dare. Just a little lick."

Dare is crying openly now. With the drugs, he couldn't stop it if he tried. He shakes his head and feels the dildo shoved in again. It burns against the dry walls of his asshole.

"Lick him." He's told again.

His breath is coming short and quick as he reasons why he should do as he's told. Warm water. These men might be nicer to him. Maybe things will slow down so that he can process them more easily.

Dare steels himself and flicks his tongue out against the flesh of the Brute's dick. Before he can close his mouth again, the dick is pushed inside. He feels like he might gag. It tastes strange.

Salt and Pepper holds a hand at his brow to keep his head canted back. "That's a good fuck toy, Dare. Just let it happen."

Dare feels himself relax and let it happen. He can't fight it.

"Use your tongue. Give him a few licks."

Dare tries that. He coughs and gags. Both men laugh.

"Try it again." Salt and Pepper prompts. "Lick him. Breathe through your nose."

The problem with that is that Dare's nose is stopped up from crying. But Dare tries it anyway, because it's too much to take, it's too much stimulation and he's too slow to process it all. The drugs aren't helping either. Also... Dare has a horrible, terrible thought.

_Maybe I am stupid._

The thought makes tears intensify. He doesn't want to be that. He doesn't want to be slow. He doesn't want to be a disappointment to his parents, even to their memory.

So he uses his tongue. He gags. He coughs. He lets one man shove his dick down his throat and the other hold his head in place and pet his hand through his hair and down his spine.

Dare feels the press of the dildo in his ass. It still burns. But when a hand pulls his dick down from his chest to an awkward angle so that it rests against the table between his thighs, he's surprised to find himself hard.

How can he be hard right now?

"See? You're enjoying this." Salt and Pepper says.

Is he? Dare is so fucking confused right now. He's overwhelmed, overly emotional and confused as hell.

"What are you, Dare?"

Of course Dare can't answer Salt and Pepper right now. His mouth is full. But he knows what answer the man wants now.

When cum fills his mouth, he's ordered to swallow it down. Dare gets some of it down his throat. Some of it dribbles out onto his chin as he gags and coughs. The taste is somehow both tangy and sweet.

Then, surprisingly enough, it only takes a handful of strokes to his own cock to make him cum. Dare once again feels humiliated and embarrassed. He also feels sated and spent.

Salt and Pepper leans down into his line of sight. That smile is too kind for the type of man he is. "Answer me, Dare."

Dare swallows hard, his ass still aching and the taste of cum still in his mouth. "I'm a fuck toy."

 

* * *

 

Two more times that day, Salt and Pepper brings different men in to shove their cocks down Dare's throat. Each time, he's told to try different things with his tongue, to suck harder, to open wider and use less teeth. Dare does all of that.

Each time, they push a dildo into his ass. Dare could swear they're getting bigger and bigger. Each time, they make Dare cum too.

Salt and Pepper asks the questions over and over. Dare answers the questions dutifully. The words are becoming easier to say.

"What's your name?"

"My name is Dare."

"What are you, Dare?"

"I'm a fuck toy."

They're just words, right? With cock after cock in his mouth, Dare feels that even saying they're just words are just words. Maybe it's his drugged haze, but nothing holds real meaning for him right now.

Dare is left alone again for hours. He dozes in and out of sleep, never really deep enough to dream. He's thankful for that given the tenor of his last dream.

He spends those hours thinking about the fields at the ranch, the feel of the sun on his skin, the breeze as it wafts through the grass. He thinks about riding his horse, how it feels to run her at top speed with the wind whipping past him, how it feels like he's flying. Dare wishes he could fly right now.

When the door creaks open again, the same man from yesterday enters. He turns on the water and Dare braces himself. When the hose is pushed into his ass, the water is warm.

"I hear you finally figured out what you are yesterday." The Brute says. "Little slow, aren't ya?"

Yes, slow.

"Think that's gonna work in your favor here, fuck toy."

They go through the same routine as yesterday. Dare is flushed out, sprayed down, then given injections which the Brute claims have been 'tweaked' again.

The Brute leaves and comes back with a bowl of something. He spoon feeds Dare some kind of colorless slop that's half oatmeal without the flavor and half water. Then he leaves.

Several minutes later, Salt and Pepper comes in with another dildo. This time, Dare sees it and it looks far bigger than anything that should fit inside of him.

"It's a new day, Dare!" Salt and Pepper proclaims as he pets at Dare's ass, squeezing the cheeks a few time. "Time for something new, don't you think? Wouldn't want you to get bored."

He doesn't wait for Dare to answer. He lubes the dildo up, which Dare is thankful for since he's still feeling what happened yesterday, and pushes the thickness inside of Dare. Dare breathes slow, letting himself stretch and take it inside.

The other Brute is jerking himself off. Dare watches.

"Now, what's your name?

"My name is Dare."

"What are you, Dare?"

Dare hesitates only briefly. "I'm a fuck toy."

"And what do you do?"

A new question. What does he do? He lays here and waits for whatever they want to do to him.

"I do what you tell me to do."

Salt and Pepper barks a laugh. "Well, yeah. You do. But that's not the right answer."

Dare tries to figure out what the right answer would be. "I..."

"Just cut to the chase, Dare. Say what needs to be said."

He doesn't want to say it. He doesn't like saying it. He feels his emotions get the better of him and tears fill his eyes again. He hates being this emotional.

A slap and then squeeze to his ass prompts him to answer now rather than later.

"I'm not very smart, Sir. I'm stupid." He says.

Salt and Pepper pets Dare's ass and up over his spine. "We know you're stupid, Dare - but don't worry. We're gonna help you with that."


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is a short(?) story of one of the minor original characters in [A Lion Tamed](http://archiveofourown.org/series/435904). It can stand on its own but reading about the world of A Lion Tamed is a good idea.
> 
> The world is very dark and twisted. If you are triggered by non-consensual rape elements, this isn't the fic for you.

When Dare was little, his mom used to tell him that he was going to look a lot like his father someday. Dare would look at the great big towering figure of his father and couldn't even imagine ever being similar to this gigantic, stone wall of a man. His dad was larger than life to him, even when Dare grew taller and broader than him, he still marveled at his dad.

When Dare is allowed to stand up for the first time in what feels like weeks, he's only shifted from one precarious position to another. His wrists are brought up above his head and put in metal chains and cuffs. But it's in this position that he realizes that he's taller and broader and more muscular than every man in the room and that that's probably why they've brought in six men to shift him from the table to this standing position.

He likes that he has purchase with his feet on the ground It doesn't last long enough for him to do anything with it. A metal bar is put between his legs at his ankles to spread them wide and the chains connecting his wrists to the ceiling are pulled taut. This leaves him just enough to hold himself steady on the ground and little else.

For weeks now he's started every morning with being flushed out and washed. Then he's made to watch a man jerk himself off and he's fucked with massive dildos that make him cum again and again until he's left alone. After the first week, Dare started trying to keep count so that he could tell how long he's been here. He thinks he's at five weeks now.

Five weeks ago, Dare had never seen another man's dick. Five weeks ago Dare had never been touched by another man. Five weeks ago Dare had never had anything up his ass. Five weeks ago Dare's mind was solid and sound, peaceful even.

None of that is true now.

Dare has seen too many dicks to count. He's been fucked by too many dildos. He doesn't think that there's an inch of him that Salt and Pepper hasn't touched. He's pumped with drugs every morning and night that keep him slightly off balance, enough so that he's emotional and moody and can't control his thoughts.

His blonde hair is getting shaggy. His beard is growing out. He's tired as hell. He's also starting to think that maybe, just maybe, he's always been stupid, that every doctor he's ever seen, every psych eval, even his own parents, has been wrong to decide that he's okay.

After the warm spray down, cleanse and medicine of the morning, Salt and Pepper enters the room again along with another brute. The second brute immediately pulls his dick out and Dare's eyes immediately slip down to watch him jerk himself off.

"You like that, Dare? You like what you see?" Salt and Pepper stands beside him, watching him as he instinctively watches the man jerk off.

Dare decides not to answer.

"Oh who am I kidding? Your dick is already hard, of course you like it!" Salt and Pepper chuckles at that and runs a finger over the length of Dare's cock. "What's your name?"

"My name is Dare."

"What are you Dare?"

"I'm a fuck toy."

"What do you do, Dare?"

"I let people fuck me."

"Are you good at anything else, Dare?"

"I'm only good at sex."

"No hobbies or anything?"

Dare mechanically shakes his head. "I'm only good at sex."

"What are you without sex, Dare?"

"I'm nothing without sex."

This is as far as they've gotten. It took Dare calling himself stupid for weeks to get to these answers. The fact that Dare answers them now so readily is why he's been given the gift of getting off of that damn metal table.

"That's good, Dare. That's really good." Salt and Pepper praises him as if he were speaking with a child. Salt and Pepper always speaks to Dare like that, as if Dare needs the musical tones and every little thing explained to him in the finest detail in order for him to understand.

"Hey, I got you something." After reaching behind him to his back pocket, Salt and Pepper brings out another dildo. This one is as large as the latest ones, seemingly too large to fit and yet somehow they always fit. But this one is also a hot pink glitter in color. This one also has straps connected to the base.

Dare starts to say something about the pink but decides against it. He won't engage if he doesn't have to. That's been his game plan for these past weeks. Say what he has to say when he has to and shut the hell up when he can.

"Got nothin' to say, pretty boy?"

Dare shakes his head.

Salt and Pepper flips a switch on the base of the dildo and it starts to vibrate with a light hum. Dare glares at it. What the fuck is that? A pink glittery vibrating dildo?

"Still got nothin' to say, Dare?"

Dare presses his lips together and looks back over to the Brute jerking himself off.

"Well hell! I thought I'd at least get a thank you! That's what people usually say when they're given a gift." Salt and Pepper turns the vibrating off and busies himself with lubing up the dildo. Then he slips around behind Dare.

Dare feels the press of the dildo to his ass and braces himself. He hates this. He hates that he's become accustomed to watching a man jerk himself off and having things pushed up inside of him. He's desensitized to it in the same way that he's becoming desensitized to calling himself a stupid fuck toy. He hates what these men are doing to him.

His ass stretches and relaxes, so that the large dildo slides easily inside. Salt and Pepper makes sure it's pushed deep and then brings the straps around to secure at his front and keep it lodged inside.

"Hey. Beautiful boy. I brought you somethin' else. You wanna see?" Salt and Pepper doesn't wait for Dare to say yes or no before he brings out a a small ring with a long string hanging from it. The ring itself is a pale pink, the string is white and at the base of the string is what looks like a large pink diamond about the size of a ping-pong ball. It sparkles in what little light there is in this room.

"You got a thank you for me yet?"

Dare knows he should say thank you if just because it's what Salt and Pepper wants. Instead, he says nothing and resolutely watches the other Brute jerk off. At least he's still doing something he knows he's supposed to do.

Salt and Pepper has the gall to look both hurt by and disappointed in Dare before he dips down to grab Dare's ball sac and pull it down to get the pink ring around the width of them and pulled up to the base. The white chord and pink diamond dangle down between his forcibly spread legs. The diamond is heavy, pulling at his sac uncomfortably. Salt and Pepper stands back up and looks at Dare for a long moment before snapping his fingers.

The Brute who had been jerking off leaves the room and Dare stares back at Salt and Pepper.

"What's your name?"

"My name is Dare."

"What are you Dare?"

"I'm a fuck toy."

"What do you do, Dare?"

"I let people fuck me."

"Are you good at anything else, Dare?"

"I'm only good at sex."

"Really? Not good at anything else, huh?"

"I'm only good at sex."

"What are you without sex, fuck toy?"

"I'm nothing without sex."

Without any warning, Salt and Pepper grabs Dare's cock. "What's this, Dare?"

Dare stumbles over the new question before answering. "That's... my dick, Sir."

"Wrong. Try again!" Dare's cock is stroked a few times. "What is this, pretty boy?"

There's a moment where Dare is terrified of the answer the Brute wants. He knows though, that in the end, he has to say what he has to say. "I'm not very smart, Sir. I'm stupid."

"I'm sorry, I don't think I heard that. Say it again?"

"I'm not very smart, Sir." Dare says, feeling his eyes well with unwanted tears again. "I'm stupid."

"That's right, Dare. You are stupid. But I'm gonna help you with that." Salt and Pepper glances back as a flat screen TV is wheeled into the room then looks back to Dare. "I'm also gonna help you to be a nicer person. See, where I come from, when someone gives you a gift, you say thank you! I've given you three gifts today! Tell me about the gifts I gave you."

Damn. Dare knew that not saying thank you would come back to bite him. "The dildo, Sir."

"That's right. What else?"

"The..." What even is that thing? "...diamond?"

"Pretty isn't it? It's real. Nothing fake for our pretty boy." Salt and Pepper says. "What else?"

Dare hesitates, trying to think of the third gift. He glances behind Salt and Pepper. "The TV?"

That makes Salt and Pepper laugh and he shakes his head. "Well you got me there but that's not what I was thinkin' about. I let you off the table, didn't I?"

Oh. "Yes, Sir."

Salt and Pepper claps a hand on Dare's shoulder and squeezes. "That's alright, Dare. We all know you're not very smart, don't we?"

"Yes, Sir." Dare mumbles.

"Good thing you're pretty, huh? You know you're pretty, don't you Dare?"

Pretty? The contrast between insult and compliment is always glaring with this guy. Salt and Pepper does it all the time. Dare's mom used to call him a handsome boy. The one girl he'd ever had sex with called him sexy. But pretty?

"I... I guess, Sir."

"No. You don't get to guess. You either know or you don't. There's that stupidity again. Let me help you out, pretty boy. I know what's right so listen to me while I spell it out for you. I call you pretty, so that means...?"

Dare grinds his teeth together just a bit before answering. "That means I'm pretty."

"You're very pretty... you can use that in your favor, you know. Always remember that your beauty is a weapon."

"All set up, Sir." The other Brute says, dropping the extension chord powering the TV.

"Good! Now, Dare, here's what I want you to do. I want you to make that beautiful diamond I gave our beautiful fuck toy move."

Instantly, Dare is confused. He shakes his head and whispers a question. "What?"

"Oh man! We have to spoon feed you everything, don't we? Fuck! Alright then." Salt and Pepper puts a hand at Dare's abdomen and the other at the small of his back and starts to move him backward and forward. "Like this. Make the diamond move. Swing it forward and back, there you go."

As Salt and Pepper pulls his hands away, Dare realizes that he's supposed to use what little purchase he has on the ground with his spread feet to push his hips forward and backward, causing the diamond on a string to swing from his balls between his spread legs. He stops moving and looks at Salt and Pepper.

"Nope. You don't get to stop until I tell you to stop. Get it goin' again."

Dare hesitates only a moment before he starts to move his hips forward and backward. The diamond starts swinging again, a slow pendulum between his legs. Then Salt and Pepper reaches back to flip the switch on the dildo. Dare cries out uncomfortably as it starts to vibrate in his ass. The discomfort doesn't last very long. He hates that it quickly starts to feel good.

"Now..." Salt and Pepper says. "What do you say about those gifts, pretty boy?"

Dare swallows hard and makes himself murmur a thank you. 

This seems to please Salt and Pepper who goes to the TV and presses a button. The TV comes on and Salt and Pepper turns back to Dare. "You stop movin' those hips and there'll be hell to pay. You got me, Dare? You're gonna use my gifts and like it because that's what Fuck Toys do. You understand?"

"Yes, Sir."

Salt and Pepper nods his approval and turns to walk out of the room. He pauses at the door and looks back. "What are you, Dare?"

"I'm a fuck toy."

Salt and Pepper grins and walks out, leaving the door open.

When Dare looks back to the TV, he sees video of a man in a room similar to this one. He's being fucked, obviously against his will. Dare looks up to the red blinking light in the corner of his own room and wonders if his videos are being used for anyone else's torture. Is someone in another cell watching snuff film porn, staring Daren Brooks?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay. Life has been eating me alive. Thanks for hanging in there!


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is a short(?) story of one of the minor original characters in [A Lion Tamed](http://archiveofourown.org/series/435904). It can stand on its own but reading about the world of A Lion Tamed is a good idea.
> 
> The world is very dark and twisted. If you are triggered by non-consensual rape elements, this isn't the fic for you.

Dare is left alone for a long time. In that time, he's shocked by what happens. The video of the man being raped doesn't last. The video feed is ever-changing, shifting from men to women, men with men, women with women, men with women, women with men. In some of the videos the sex is seemingly consensual. In many of them it's not. Sometimes it's in rooms like these. Sometimes it's in a communal room where many of the Brutes are gathered. Sometimes it's in lavishly furnished rooms; bedrooms, living rooms, dining rooms.

Sex. So much sex.

In the last several weeks, Dare has been shocked at himself for cuming while watching another man jerk off. He's been shocked at himself for cuming with dildos shoved up his ass. He's been shocked at himself for cuming while calling himself stupid as another man jerks him off.

It's been humiliating. All of it.

Now, as he watches these snuff films of people having unscripted sex, of torture and sex combined, of sex both consensual and not, he finds himself aroused and he hates himself for it. It doesn't help that the vibrating dildo in his ass feels so damn good. It doesn't help that his hips are moving in a motion indicative of sex to keep the pink diamond in motion. This is absolutely, psychological manipulation and torture.

There had been a moment, when he'd first started to feel aroused, that he'd stopped, his entire body going still to try to stop himself. When he'd heard noise in the hallway he'd started back up again to keep the diamond moving.

Over the span of several hours, Dare cums one, twice, a third time, a fourth. His body is trembling. His cock wants something to touch it. He's heard himself emit the most wanton of groans a few times. Any humiliation he'd initially felt is gone by the time Salt and Pepper enters the room again.

"Well aren't you pretty in pink?" Salt and Pepper coos as he approaches Dare. As Dare's hips slow to a stop, the Brute tsks a few times and shakes his head. "Now don't you stop yet. You've been doin' so good."

"Please." Dare whispers as he starts to move his hips again, the pink diamond swinging forward and backward between his legs.

"Oh I like that word. Please what?"

What is Dare asking for? He has no idea. Please stop? Does he want it to stop? He feels on the edge of something that needs completion. 

He answers with the first thing that comes to mind. "I'm not very smart, Sir. I'm stupid."

"You really are stupid. But you're pretty and that's somethin', isn't it?" Salt and Pepper says, fingertips pressing to the fine hair just above Dare's cock and drawing a line up from there over his flat abdomen. "I see you've spilled a few times, fuck toy... not quite so satisfyin' when nobody's touchin' you though."

Those fingers continue to trace indecipherable designs on Dare's abs. "You want me to touch you, Dare?"

"Yes." Dare answers without a moment's pause. "Sir." His entire body wants it. Yes, a million times yes.

"All you have to do is tell me what you want touched."

Dare exhales a quick breath of air as he remembers hours ago when Salt and Pepper had grabbed his dick and asked him what it was. "My... dick."

"But you don't have one. How am I supposed to touch somethin' you don't have?"

The sound Dare emits as he continues to make that diamond sway may as well be defined as a whimper.

"Do you need help, Dare?" Salt and Pepper asks.

"Yes, Sir."

"Why do you need help?"

"Because I'm not very smart, Sir. I'm stupid." It rolls off of his tongue so easily and right now Dare believes every word. He's the dumbest guy in the room and maybe he always has been.

Salt and Pepper's palm rests flat on Dare's abdomen and rubs his belly gently, hand slowly slipping closer and closer to Dare's cock. "That's right. But I'm here to help you with that. And what you've got that needs touching is a cunt. What you've got that needs filling up, that's a pussy."

Dare's stomach roils uncomfortably. He can't tell if it's from nerves, hatred of what Salt and Pepper is saying, or even more arousal. He shakes his head just slightly.

"You know I'm right, pretty boy. You know I am." Salt and Pepper reaches back to press against the base of the plug, not to make the vibration stop but to push the dildo even further inside. The act makes Dare cry out, not in pain, but with need.

"Now, what do you want me to touch?"

Dare feels tears slip out of the corners of his eyes. There's those emotions that are all out of wack. "My..."

"Your what?"

"My cunt."

"And what needs to be filled up?"

Dare swallows hard and almost doesn't realize he's quit moving his hips until that palm against his abdomen presses slightly to get him going again. The pink diamond swings back and forth as Dare slowly fucks the air in front of him.

"Say it, Dare."

"My pussy." He whispers.

"Good boy." Salt and Pepper coos. "Now, ask nicely."

Dare dips his head, emitting a loud cry that echoes off the walls of the room.

_My sweet Dare, I dare you to get to the next thing._

Get to the next thing. Dare presses his lips together and draws a deep breath. "Please..."

"Yes? Tell me what you want, pretty boy."

"Please touch my cunt and fill my pussy."

"Change fill to fuck, dipshit."

Again, he's being called stupid and Dare accepts it way too easily because it's easy and his body _needs_ what the Brute is offering him. And maybe he actually believes it right now. He's a dipshit. "Please fuck my pussy."

"There you go. See? You might be dumb as shit but with a little help you get there eventually."

Salt and Pepper's hand slides down to hold onto Dare's cock. Dare realizes that the movement of his hips pumps his dick into that fist and he starts to go at it which makes the Brute laugh. 

"Now now, not too fast, beautiful." His other hand starts to unsnap the straps holding the dildo in. "We gotta get this pussy filled up too, since you asked so nicely."

The dildo is pulled out and tossed to the ground, still vibrating, and Dare feels very empty. He's surprised that given his current state, he doesn't like the emptiness the dildo leaves behind. Those muscles clench, looking for something to milk even as his hips work to slowly thrust his cock into Salt and Pepper's fist.

The brute moves behind him and Dare hears the pull of a buckled belt, the opening of a fly and the shift of material. It occurs to him that he's about to be fucked, not by an inanimate object, but by another man... and he _asked_ for it. This realization makes his tears come even harder and he turns his head into his bicep to wipe the tears away. What have they done to him?

Salt and Pepper seems to sense the hitch in Dare's breath as he cries. "Oh now, so emotional, pretty boy... just like anyone with a pussy like yours would be."

Drugs. They're drugging him to take away his control over his emotions. Logically, Dare knows this. But logic has no place in this moment as he feels the heated press of another man's cock against his stretched hole.

The Brute easily slips inside of him. "Good and stretched just like a good fuck toy would be. Now, move your hips again."

Dare starts to move again, fucking his cock into Salt and Pepper's hand with each thrust forward and fucking his ass on the Brute's cock with each press back. There's something very wrong, the worst sort of betrayal, in making Dare do all the work himself, like it's his choice. Is it? Does he have a choice? Does he want it to stop?

No, he doesn't want it to stop. He wants to be done with what they've done to his body today. He wants to end it, so he picks up the pace and rolls his hips to make it feel so damn good.

"Look at you, Dare. See? Once you figured out what you have down there, you know just what to do with it." Salt and Pepper leans in to whisper in Dare's ear. "Does your pussy feel good, Dare?"

"Yes, Sir." Dare breathes the words out.

"Say it."

Dare pauses a beat and then gets the words out. "My pussy feels good, Sir."

"And your cunt?"

"My cunt feels good, Sir."

"What are you, Dare?"

"I'm a fuck toy."

"Good boy." Salt and Pepper grabs Dare's hips to stop him. "You can stop now."

The hands on either side of his hips are bruising as Salt and Pepper starts to fuck him. Hard. Dare's body jerks and the chains holding his wrists above his head rattle with each slam of cock into his ass. It doesn't even hurt with how stretched he is. It's just a new and different sensation, like nothing he's ever felt before. 

He shouldn't like it. He doesn't want to like it. But it feels so good that it confuses him... because he's not very smart.

Dare loves the way it's pushing him back to that edge where he knows it'll all be over. But he cries into his bicep as it happens because he hates everything about today, including himself.

The feel of hot, wet cum inside of him is strange but not horrible. Then Salt and Pepper reaches around and jerks Dare's cock until he cums too. It doesn't take long. Dare was ready. He's been ready for hours. And the way that hand continues to work him, he finally finds the period at the end of today's extremely long sentence.

His body is spent. His mind is spent. His heart and soul are spent. Dare wants to shut everything off and be alone.

Salt and Pepper must know he's vulnerable right now though because he doesn't leave him alone. He pulls out and Dare feels cum dribble out of his ass and down his thighs. He's so damn ashamed of himself, his head hangs low and he wishes he could hide so that no one can see him.

"Oh baby... it's not so bad." Salt and Pepper's hand cups Dare's cheek to lift his head and swipe away the remnants of tears. "What's your name?"

"My name is Dare."

"What are you Dare?"

"I'm a fuck toy, Sir."

"What do you do, Dare?"

"I let people fuck me."

"Anything else you're good at, Dare?"

"I'm only good at sex, Sir."

"Really? Nothing else?"

Dare automatically answers these questions. But there's nothing automatic about it right now. He feels stripped raw enough to maybe believe that they might be true - every last one of them. "I'm only good at sex."

"What are you without sex, Dare?"

"Nothing." He chokes on the word. "I'm nothing without sex."

Salt and Pepper grabs Dare's cock and doesn't say a word. Dare answers the unasked question. "That's my cunt, Sir."

The Brute smiles a smile that should be too kind for a man like him. "And what did I just fuck?"

"You just fucked my pussy, Sir."

"That's right." The man leans in close to brush a gentle kiss to Dare's cheek and then speaks into his ear. "I'm gonna make sure you get plenty of pink things, Dare. I know that's your favorite color."

Is it? Dare thought his favorite color was brown. But maybe he was mistaken. Right now he's questioning everything.

He feels a squeeze to one ass cheek. "My beautiful little sissy boy."

Dare isn't sure what that means but maybe that doesn't matter either. Salt and Pepper leaves the room again, leaving the TV on so that the sounds of the snuff films still fill the room. The vibrating pink glitter dildo lightly buzzes for hours before the batteries give out.

When Dare dreams that night, all he dreams of is sex. It's the only thing he knows anymore.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is a short(?) story of one of the minor original characters in [A Lion Tamed](http://archiveofourown.org/series/435904). It can stand on its own but reading about the world of A Lion Tamed is a good idea.
> 
> The world is very dark and twisted. If you are triggered by non-consensual rape elements, this isn't the fic for you.

For a long time everything, Dare's entire world and his existence in it, is sex. The films continue to play on rotation. He knows them by heart at this point. Sometimes a man comes in and jerks off in front of him and Dare watches because that's what he's supposed to do. Different Brutes come into the room to fuck him. Sometimes they loosen the chains so that he can get on his knees and they can fill his mouth up just as they do his pussy. They make him say the words and answer all of the questions just right again and again. Dare is a good sissy boy and answers every question just as he should.

He hasn't seen Salt and Pepper since that first time he was fucked.

Time blends together because the man who usually hooks up the hose to spray him down doesn't come into the cell. Dare is just fucked, made to cum, cumed on and asked the same questions again and again. There's no food, not even the tasteless slop he's grown accustomed to being spoon fed in this place. There's nothing but sex.

He hasn't been able to feel his arms and hands for what feels like days. He stinks of excrement, piss and sex. The men call him pretty but Dare doesn't feel very pretty. He feels like a fuck toy and nothing more... because that's what he is.

By the time some of the Brutes finally release his arms from the chains above, Dare is weak and tired. His mind is numbed to anything but what he's seen on the video screen and what's been done with his body. His body is expecting some form of sex but it doesn't happen this time. He doesn't even think to look around at his surroundings as he's led through several hallways on this same level. The Brutes say nothing to him, although their hands seem to wander over his body, touching everywhere.

He's placed in another room and the door is shut and locked, shrouding him in darkness. Only then does his mind catch up to what just happened. Maybe he should have fought, should have looked around, should have done _something_... but he's too stupid for that, isn't he?

There's a thin line of dim light beneath the door. As his eyes adjust, he can tell that this is a tiny room, the size of a small closet. He can just make out the outline of a toilet. Up on the ceiling is a blinking red light, a camera.

Dare is shrouded in darkness. He reaches out to feel for a doorknob, but there isn't one on this side. Would he even try to get out if there were one? He isn't sure anymore.

There's a long time where Dare just stands there, waiting, wondering what the next thing is. He's filthy and can still feel the last round of fucking he got. He feels used in every way. And he feels... less than human.

The longer he waits the more his mind wanders. It doesn't wander to anything it should, not at first, the first thing he thinks about is Salt and Pepper and whether or not he'll come see the state Dare is in and make it better. Salt and Pepper was always nice to him. It's strange how the scale of 'nice' has changed, but to Dare, Salt and Pepper was trying to help... right?

No. That's not right. Maybe. Everything is confusion.

"My name is Dare..." He whispers into the room. He tries to think of other things to say about himself, anything worth saying, but the only thing he can come up with right now is the following: "I'm a fuck toy."

He shakes his head and slides down the back wall until he's sitting on the floor next to the toilet. There's no room for him to stretch his legs out, the room is so small. So he keeps them pulled up to his chest and wraps his arms around them. His brow rests on the tops of his knees and he tries to think about anything but the script he's supposed to say, anything but the snuff films he's been watching for days while drugged and chained up. He tries to think of anything but the Brutes coming into his room to fuck him.

These things are the only things Dare can think about. His mind is saturated with these things to the point that there is nothing else.

He sits there for a long time, lost in thoughts that make him ashamed of himself, thoughts that make him horny and embarrassed and feel like the lowest he's ever felt. Sex, rape, pink dildos and diamonds.

"I'm a fuck toy."

Eventually, the lowest part of the door is lifted, a small hatch that Dare hadn't noticed was there, and a bowl of tasteless slop is slid into the room on the floor. Since he's been here, the Brutes have been spoon feeding him. This is the first time Dare has used his hands to pick up the bowl and drink it down. He's too hungry not to finish it off. It feels like it's been days since he's eaten anything.

Time stretches in this room. Dare starts counting the days he's in here by the number of times the slop is placed through the hatch and taken away. So far he's counted eight days without any human interaction, eight days with no noise but the sound of his own breathing, eight times the slop has been given to him, eight times he's laid on the floor, curled up in the smallest ball he can, to try to sleep when he thinks it's night time.

His days consist of nothing but himself and his own thoughts. As much as he tries to control those thoughts, his mind is on an endless cycle of snuff films and men jerking themselves off and what it feels like to be touched and fucked and spanked. Does he actually miss his old room where he was chained to the ceiling? Yes. No. Yes.

He's on day twelve when something finally changes. It's nothing big, just a thought, just a memory of a dog yipping at him and licking his face. Molly. He has a dog named Molly.

"My name is Dare. I have a dog named Molly." He whispers into the room.

It's so small a thing, seemingly insignificant. But it's a reminder that Dare was - is - something more than this.

For the first time in too long, Dare hears his mom's voice in his mind.

_I dare you to get through this. I dare you to fight, my sweet Dare._

It's such a relief to hear it. He's worried that she had left him, that there was no room for a guardian angel like his mom in his life now. Only what she says isn't something he's sure he can do. Dare has never been a fighter. He's quiet and reserved, kind and gentle. Dare has always done what needs doing and nothing more, nothing less. He's not a fighter.

Maybe that's why it's been so easy for the Brutes to get into his head. His mind reminds him that they could do that because he's so damn stupid. He even hears the words in Salt and Pepper's voice, that sing-song tone that people use when they're explaining even the simplest of things to a kid.

Dare squeezes his eyes shut and shakes his head to try to get that voice out of his head, to get his mom's voice back, but the damage is already done.

_Well aren't you a pretty dipshit? Don't worry, I'm gonna help you with that._

It's on what Dare thinks is day fifteen that noise suddenly floods his small closet-sized cell. It's loud and startling after such a long bout of silence. It's the sound of those films he was made to watch, people fucking and screaming and crying, words like slut and whore and hole and fuck. Dare tries to block it out, but he can see it all in his mind's eye, every bit of it. This goes on for hours before it finally shuts off and once again there's blessed silence. Only the silence isn't any better because his mind is back where it began. Once again, there's no room for anything else in his mind but sex.

It's a few days later when Dare is woken up to another onslaught of sound. This time it's his own voice with Salt and Pepper. Dare's voice answers the questions, the same questions, again and again.

"What's your name?"

"My name is Dare."

"What are you, Dare?"

"I'm a fuck toy, Sir."

"What do you do, fuck toy?"

"I let people fuck me."

"Good at anything else?"

"I'm only good at sex, Sir."

"Is that right? Well, you sure about that?"

"I'm only good at sex."

"Well okay then. Without sex, what are you?"

"I'm nothing without sex."

"That's right, pretty boy. What's this?"

"That's my cunt, Sir."

"It's a pretty cunt. How about this?"

"That's my pussy, Sir."

"Well damn, you're a good sissy boy, aren't you? Proud of you, Dare."

This is played over and over for what feels like hours. By the time it's shut off, Dare is mouthing the words into the darkened room. An hour later, after so many days without being fucked, he's mouthing only one line over and over again.

"I'm nothing without sex." That's what he is right now. No one's fucking him. He's nothing. He's the lowest common denominator. He has no purpose. He's nothing. He barely even exists.

Days pass and Dare looses count somewhere along the way. He's still given slop to eat and he eats it. No one opens the door to his room. It's just him and the occasional recordings. Sometimes it's the sounds of the snuff films. Sometimes it's his own answers to the questions. Both play for hours on end when they play. Dare knows all of these sounds by heart.

There's a day where the audio playbacks stop. Dare is left in silence for a long time just like he was in the beginning. He's left to just his own devices for days, he thinks. It isn't good for him to be left to his own devices, alone with his thoughts. Dare needs something, anyone, anything...

The silence is slowly killing him.

_You're a good sissy boy, aren't you? Proud of you, Dare._

In the silence, Salt and Pepper's voice plays over and over in his mind. Salt and Pepper is proud of him. Dare did something right to make him proud. What did he do? Can he make him proud again? Can he be a fuck toy?

Dare doesn't want to be nothing.

The shadow of feet appears in the thin line of dim light outside the door and Dare waits for more slop to be brought in. There are hushed, murmured voices talking outside of the door, which is strange. No one has said anything where he can hear it in so long.

The light in the hallway isn't that bright, but when the door is unlocked and opened, Dare squints anyway. He hasn't seen anything but dark for some time. The figures outside are dark shadows to Dare, even against the background of the dim light. There are some Brutes out there, and a man in a white lab coat.

The man lowers himself so that he's on Dare's level and Dare sees the shadow of a smile although he can't quite make out the man's features. "Hello, Dare. I'm Doctor Simmons. I'm here to help you. Would you like some help?"

Help with what? Dare isn't sure what the right answer is so he just leaves the question unanswered.

"I know you must be confused. But if you accept my help, I can take you to a better place than this. Have you ever seen a therapist before?"

Therapist. "Like a shrink?"

The doctor chuckles and nods. "Yes, like a shrink."

Dare remembers then, he remembers being taken to a few psych evals just to see if he wasn't developing like he should. No, he's just quiet, those doctors had said. So he nods slowly in answer.

Doctor Simmons seems pleased with that answer. "Then you know that I only want to help you. Will you accept my help?"

Dare scans the faces behind Doctor Simmons. Salt and Pepper isn't here. "Where's...?"

"Where is who?"

Of course Dare doesn't even know the Brute's real name. He'd named him Salt and Pepper because of his hair. He has no idea who to even ask for.

"I know you're confused. You just need some help, Dare. You're... slower than most people."

The words instantly strike a chord with him. He's been called slow before. The Doctor might as well have just called him stupid or a dipshit. Dare thinks the words whether they were said or not.

_I'm not very smart, Sir. I'm stupid._

"But really, we can play to your strengths and you can still have a beautiful life here. Just let me help you."

_I'm only good at sex. I'm nothing without sex._

Dare presses his lips together for a long moment and then finally nods. There's really no other choice, is there? This room or whatever comes next? Accepting help from this doctor?

Doctor Simmons smiles and nods. "Alright then. That's very good. These men are going to transport you to the labs. We'll get you set up there and our work can begin. You're going to be alright, Dare. Trust in that, if nothing else."

Is he going to be alright? Will he be done with this non-existence now? Will he be a fuck toy? Dare has no idea what's in store for him. But anything has to be better than this nothingness. Anything has to be better than being a nothing.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is a short(?) story of one of the minor original characters in [A Lion Tamed](http://archiveofourown.org/series/435904). It can stand on its own but reading about the world of A Lion Tamed is a good idea.
> 
> The world is very dark and twisted. If you are triggered by non-consensual rape elements, this isn't the fic for you.

As the Doctor leaves, the Brutes haul Dare up to his feet. Two of the Brutes have guns. The other four are just muscle, although Dare is bigger than all of them. He hasn't had real sleep or real food for some time, so he's weak. And his mind, after what feels like so long without any interaction, is numb.

Dare lets them lead him through a maze of hallways and up a flight of stairs where a code is punched into a box by the door and a thumb print is scanned. On the other side of the door are a group of men who look like they could be military. Their weapons are better. They aren't quite so rag-tag as the Brutes are. The Brutes hand him over and Dare is brought up two more flights of stairs before he's led through some double doors into a very bright and sterile room.

Another guard meets the escort. The man is dark skinned with a buzz cut and a neatly trimmed goatee. He gives Dare a once over and a smirking grin. "This way."

The guard turns and walks off and Dare stands still until one of his escort pushes at his shoulder. Then he starts following the man, hurrying to catch up. This place, the main room of it, looks like any lab would with doctors and exam rooms off to the sides. He feels a twinge of embarrassment at being naked in front of all these doctors. 

Dare is half looking around and half trying to keep up with the guard as they make it to another set of double doors that requires a code and leads into a long hallway.

It's shocking, walking through a hallway with glass on either side and naked people in each cell. They all kneel on their pallets in the middle of their rooms. Some of them seem to be in better condition than others. Each cell holding a naked person has a man outside of it dressed in the same way the man leading Dare through the hallways. They're all armed. They all look militant.

Dare is led to one of the glass walls where the guard punches in a code. Dare wouldn't have even known the door was there, just looking at it. But the code causes the glass to slide to reveal an opening.

"Inside." The guard instructs. "Shower."

The room is much larger than his closet, but smaller than the concrete room he was initially kept in. This room is white and sterile. It's brightly lit. The walls are mirrored, all but one, the one facing the hallway that's glass. There's an upright shower with glass walls in the corner of the room. The shower has a large drain in it. There's a sink next to the shower.

Dare looks in the mirror and doesn't even recognize what he sees. He looks like a wild beast, filthy and used. This, the man in that reflection, is probably exactly what 'nothing' should look like.

"Shower." The guard repeats.

It only takes a moment for Dare to realize that there's only one button to press to make the shower turn on. And once it's pressed, the water that sprays is blessedly warm to the touch. Dare steps into the shower and closes his eyes, letting it spray on him, letting it clean him for the first time in what feels like too long.

A tap at the glass and Dare opens his eyes to find the guard directly on the other side of the glass. Another spike of embarrassment flares up at being watched so closely. He points at a soap dispenser and a sponge. The sponge is pink and it makes Dare think of Salt and Pepper as he picks it up and pumps some pink gel onto it. As he starts to wash himself, Dare realizes that the soap smells like flowers of some kind. He doesn't care. He's cleaning off layers of grime and weeks old cum. He's getting _clean_.

Dare runs the sponge over every inch of skin multiple times before he rinses it off and sets it aside. He uses the flowery soap to wash his hair and his beard. He never wants this shower to end.

Another tap at the glass and the guard is pointing at a long silver tube. There's that smirking smile again as the guard tells him what to do. "Clean out your pussy."

What? Dare stares at the guard for several moments as the man seems content to wait Dare out. He knows what he's supposed to do with the wand but he doesn't want to do it.

Eventually, he gives in and picks up the wand.

"Push the button."

Dare does as instructed and water squirts out of the end.

"It's easier if your squat."

Again, Dare hesitates. Then he takes the offered help and squats down. It's humiliating, doing this where the guard can see him, where the man kneeling in the cell across the hallway can see him. But Dare reaches behind himself and pushes the wand up inside. He presses the button and feels his bowls filling with warm water.

"Hold it in. Count to thirty. Let it go over the big drain." The guard says, tapping three fingers against the glass. "Three times."

Dare does as he's told, not looking at his guard or the person across the hall at any time for all of his embarrassment. When he's done, he's told to rinse beneath the spray and he does that too. Then the guard opens the door, reaches in and turns off the water.

"You'll do that every morning when the lights come back on, understood?" When Dare just nods, the guard doesn't seem to like that. "Answer me."

"Yes... Sir." Is that what he's supposed to say? 

The guard seems pleased with him and points to the pallet in the center of the room. "You'll kneel here every day unless told otherwise. You'll sleep here every night. You aren't to move from your pallet unless given permission. Kneel."

Dare moves to the pallet and kneels.

"Spread your knees wide."

He doesn't want to spread his knees. But looking across the hallway and remembering all of the people in the rooms on his way in, they had all had their knees spread. He does that too.

"Hands behind your back."

Dare clasps his hands together behind his back and looks up at the guard, who once again seems pleased with him if that's what that smirking grin means.

"Stay." The guard turns and walks out of the room. The glass door slides shut and locks in place. The man turns his back to the cell and stands guard.

And here he is again, alone but not. This is decidedly better than where he's been. The pallet beneath him is soft and plush. He isn't on a cold floor. He's just had a warm shower. Dare feels clean even if he still feels like something isn't quite right with his body. The thought makes his ass clench and he hates the realization that his body is still, even now, waiting to be fucked.

Dare stares at the man across the hallway, also on his knees in the same position Dare is in. The man looks sad as he stares back at Dare. Even through his sadness, the corners of his lips pinch just a bit and he nods. Dare nods back, a silent communication of solidarity. The two of them are in the same boat, whatever this boat is.

It's hours later that food is brought inside. It's actual food, oatmeal that isn't watered down and has what looks like brown sugar, cinnamon and butter in it. There's fresh bread as well, toasted and buttered. There's a bowl of fruit. And there's clean water.

His guard stands just inside the room as the tray is set down. "Eat slow. See how your stomach takes it first before you eat too quickly."

That's sound advice. Smart. Dare wouldn't have thought of that.

_Because you're stupid._

His eyes and his stomach are much too hungry for that kind of thinking. But with that advice, Dare slowly starts with the bread, tearing off a piece and eating it. It's slow going, and his stomach gurgles and cramps a few times, but he gets through the whole meal, water included.

When the lights go out and he sees the man across the hallway lay down on his pallet, Dare does the same. A glance at his guard shows that same smirking grin. Dare is asleep within moments.

 

* * *

 

When the lights switch on again, from the dim light in the hallway to the bright light of his room, Dare once again looks across the hallway. The man in that room is getting up from his pallet and going to the shower. Dare remembers his instructions from yesterday and sees his guard watching him expectantly from the other side of the glass. He gets up and follows suit.

The shower is heaven, the soap cleaning his body is perfect. The enema, well, that's still a difficult pill to swallow but he thinks he does better at it today than he did yesterday. He stands under the spray a moment longer than he probably should before shutting off the water and stepping out of the shower to air dry.

His guard taps against the glass and points to the sink where a toothbrush and toothpaste are sitting. "Brush."

There are no words for how good it feels to brush his teeth, probably as good as the first shower felt yesterday. Needless to say, he does that longer than probably necessary as well.

Dare checks on the guy in the cell across from him and sees him just settling back into kneeling on his pallet. Dare mimics that and does the same, clasping his hands together behind his back.

His guard comes farther into his cell and nudges the inside of one knee with his boot. "Wider."

Dare quickly corrects himself, spreading his knees wide. Then he looks up at his guard. "Sir?" The guard doesn't address him, merely stays where he is. "How long have I... been...?" He isn't quite sure what he's asking.

"That's not your concern. You should only be concerned with the present."

With that reply, Dare dips his head with a nod. The guard still doesn't move as if he's weighing his options for a moment. The man eventually speaks again. "We're taking it easy today. We're gonna see how your body handles another round of food. You were downstairs for a long time, longer than most."

A long time. It felt like a long time, but Dare lost count of the days. "What is this? I... I'm not sure what's happening."

"This is the Gallery. You were just in the Catacombs. Now you're in the Labs. The doctors here will take care of you. You just have to let them."

"Am I sick?"

His guard smirks and shakes his head. "You need help, don't you?"

Help. Yes. Salt and Pepper had helped him. Will Salt and Pepper help him here too? "I think so, but I'm not sure."

"You accepted Doctor Simmons' offer of help. Do you know what he's gonna help you with?" When Dare shakes his head, the guard reaches out a hand ruffle his fingers through Dare's now shaggy locks. "He's gonna help you play up your strengths so that you can have a good life here."

It's the same words Doctor Simmons had used himself, like a script. But Dare is more interested in the touch right now. His body wants to be touched. His guard seems to notice the way he leans into the touch and he starts to unbuckle his belt.

Dare is just starting to shake his head when the guard asks him. "What are you?"

He hesitates, feeling strange about saying this to a new person. "I'm a fuck toy."

"Open up." The guard has a hand at the top of Dare's head, the other hand is on his gun as he guides an already half-aroused cock between Dare's lips. 

Dare starts sucking him off, just like the Brutes had taught him. He didn't know their names. He doesn't know this man's name. That's strange to think about too.

Dare feels as if he's only mediocre at best when it comes to doing this. His mouth and tongue feel awkward, but he also doesn't fight it. Maybe, in some strange way, he needs this right now, even though he's not good at it, even though he doesn't want to need it, even though he coughs anytime the tip of his guard's cock gets too deep into his throat; he needs it.

_I'm a fuck toy. I'm not nothing. I'm a fuck toy._

 

* * *

 

The next few days are long, but relaxing. Dare is allowed to shower every morning. He's fed twice each day. His guard comes into his cell and prompts Dare to talk to him. Dare has never been very good at speaking to people, but after being alone in the closet room for so long, he's desperate to keep people around him. So he thinks of any and everything to talk about. He talks about what happened in the Catacombs, about what he remembers about his life from before, which he's surprised to find, isn't a lot. He asks about the Gallery and the guard answers some questions and doesn't others.

Even when his guard is standing outside in the hallway, Dare is easily stimulated if just by watching the guards hold discussions that he can't hear out in the hallway, by watching the man across the cell and seeing that man watch him too. He wonders where the man is taken when he's let out of his cell for a period of time each day. He's always glad to see him come back to kneel on his pallet.

"So you told Doctor Simmons that you've been to see a psychologist before. Why's that?" His guard asks one day.

"Uhm, I was quiet, and my parents didn't think I was socializing enough or... in the right way. They thought something might be wrong with me."

"What did the shrink say?"

"He said I was just quiet. Otherwise fine."

The guard is quiet after that. But he glances up at the red blinking light in the corner of the room on his way out and Dare wonders if he's just said something he shouldn't have.

 

* * *

One morning, after Dare has showered, cleaned himself out and brushed his teeth, his guard comes into the room with an electric razor. He tells Dare to stand by the sink and then proceeds to use it to get Dare's blonde beard down to a light stubble. Dare stares at himself in one of the mirrored walls for a bit after that. It's been awhile since he's seen the chiseled outline of his face. His hair is now long, to his jawline. He wonders if they'll cut it too.

About an hour later, his guard instructs him to stand up and follow him. Dare walks out into the hallway and follows his guard into one of the exam rooms connected to the main room where he'd entered the labs. He's told to sit on an exam table, which he does. His guard stands at the door, watching him.

Eventually, an older man with hair white as snow enters the room. He's wearing a lab coat and gives Dare a once over before he goes about performing the most ordinary of tasks that one would undergo in a medical check up. He checks Dare's blood pressure. He draws some blood. He listens to his heart and his lungs. He checks in his ears and his throat.

"Hmm very good. Aren't you a strapping young man." The older man pats Dare's thigh and has a seat on a tall stool. "I'm Doctor Young and it's a pleasure to have you as one of my patients. All of your vitals seem healthy. Blood work and mouth swab will take a bit to come back but I expect you to be healthy as an ox. Do you have any current medical complaints?"

Current? No. Dare was starving and weak a few days ago. Now he's... good enough. "No, Sir."

"Oh how polite." Doctor Young smiles at him. "Now, I'll need you to lay on your stomach on the table."

First, Dare glances at his guard, who nods at him. Then he shifts around to lay face down on the table. Doctor Young shifts around behind him and Dare tenses as half of the table is folded down so that his legs are bent down. The doctor places his feet in stirrups that keep his legs spread and leaves him in a vulnerable position that reminds him of the table in the concrete room.

"Look at how beautiful that is." Dare can feel the Doctor's hand petting and squeezing at the rounds of his ass. "Isn't that beautiful?"

His guard speaks then. "It is. He's got a nice ass."

"That he does." Doctor Young agrees and Dare feels something cool and wet being spread over his skin and pushed inside of him. "Let's take a look inside, make sure those Brutes in the Catacombs didn't ruin something so perfect."

Dare jerks on the table when something cold and metal is pressed to his perineum. His guard is suddenly at his side with a hand resting on his back against his shoulder blades. The metal is pushed up inside of him, thicker than the wand he uses for morning enemas and extremely uncomfortable. Doctor Young is thankfully slow about working it deeper and deeper until it's where he wants it. And then with some clicking sounds, the metal is spreading, opening Dare up uncomfortably.

"Deep breaths." His guard says.

He tries so hard to take deep breaths, but a part of him is panicking.

His guard starts to ask him questions. "Name?"

"M-my name is Dare."

The metal click-click-clicks and spreads even wider so that Dare can feel cool air inside of him.

"What are you?" His guard asks.

"I'm a fuck toy."

Doctor Young chimes in then. "Yes, a beautiful fuck toy. I think I'll enjoy using you a time or two."

"What do you do, Dare?"

"I... I let people fuck me." Dare feels something smooth over his insides, like a cloth of some kind. Then he feels a little prick and his entire body jerks.

The doctor's hand slaps down onto the back of his thigh. "Now now, be a good fuck toy and stay still."

His guard's hand presses harder against his back between his shoulder blades. "Are you good at anything else?"

"No, Sir. I'm only good at sex." Dare has to work so damn hard to stay still when he feels another prick on his insides. And another. He answers the next question without it even having to be asked. It's a reiteration of the last question, just to make sure Dare knows the truth of it. "I'm only good at sex."

His guard's fingers curl against the skin of his back, as if petting him. "Without sex, what are you?"

"Nothing. I'm nothing." Dare feels his muscles clench around the metal in his ass as more pricks pierce his insides. His entire body is tense from whatever this is.

"Say all of it."

"I'm nothing without sex."

"There now, we're all done." Doctor Young says. The metal clicks as it's wound closed and then pulled out of Dare's ass. The doctor pats a hand on one of Dare's buttocks. "That wasn't so bad, was it?"

"Answer him." His guard says.

Not so bad? That was terrifying and uncomfortable whatever it was. But Dare knows that that's not the right answer. "No, Sir. What was that?"

"Good then." Doctor Young says. "Something new we're trying out here. It should make you very sensitive back there. Now, be a good boy and let me get another sample."

Dare is shocked when Doctor Young's hand wraps around Dare's cock and starts to jerk him off. The doctor reaches for a cup with his other hand and puts it at the head while he works. "Such a big boy, aren't you. Big in every way."

Again, Dare is being talked down to, as if he wouldn't understand unless everything is sing-songed and sugar coated. He looks at his guard who is standing there, resolute, watching both Dare and what the doctor is doing to him. When Dare comes, his spill is stored in the plastic cup.

"That's a good boy." Doctor Young seals the cup and returns with a large needle. "Now, bow your head."

Dare does so and feels the sharp pain as the needle pierces the skin at the back of his neck. Even when the needle is pulled away, it still feels like there's something in there. It's strange.

"You've been so compliant. I hope you won't mind my paying you a visit once you've completely healed." Doctor Young pats Dare's cheek.

His guard prompts him. "Answer when someone speaks to you, Dare."

"No, Sir. I won't mind." He thinks that's the right thing to say.

"Good. I'll see you soon, Dare."

On the way back to his cell, his guard snaps at him for rubbing a hand at the back of his neck where it still feels like something foreign is in his body beneath the skin. He's told not to touch, and he doesn't.

 

* * *

 

Dare misses an entire two days. It isn't that he sleeps through them or that he's been needlessly drugged. He's taken to another room in the lab and put to sleep. When he wakes up two days later, a little groggy, he's led back to his cell.

There's a bandage on his left forearm and the skin beneath it feels tight. There's also a bandage around his ankle. His guard leads him back to his room and Dare is told to lay down on his pallet. He does so.

"Sir? What happened?"

"Upgrades."

"I don't understand."

His guard leans back against the glass wall, looking down at his charge. "You're gonna be a pet now. The Mistress's pets get upgrades... like the treatment that makes your pussy extra sensitive."

Dare feels heat flush his skin and he buries his face in the cushioned pallet beneath him.

His guard laughs. "You're gonna have to get over that shyness, fuck toy. That's not you anymore. You're about to become a butterfly, caterpillar."

But how? How can Dare be anything or anyone but what he is? He doesn't ask that though. He's more curious about something else. "What's on my arm?"

"A pump. It's pumping drugs you need into your blood stream."

"What kind of drugs do I need?"

"That's not important. These drugs will help you, they'll make you better. You wanna be better, don't you?"

Dare nods. Yes, he wants to be better. The remnants of the drugs that had kept him unconscious for those days still in his system take him under shortly after that.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is a short(?) story of one of the minor original characters in [A Lion Tamed](http://archiveofourown.org/series/435904). It can stand on its own but reading about the world of A Lion Tamed is a good idea.
> 
> The world is very dark and twisted. If you are triggered by non-consensual rape elements, this isn't the fic for you.

Dare dreams for the first time in a long time. He dreams of his dad and him on horseback herding the cattle from one pasture to another. It's the sort of work that takes teamwork, but can also be very solitary. His mom was right that Dare would grow up to be the spitting image of his dad. Although his father has weathered skin and whitening hair these days, Dare still looks a lot like him. They're both tall and broad shouldered. Dare's skin is bronzed, kissed by the sun from hours of building fence and working with cattle. When the Brooks boys smile at you, it's with the same smile, Dare's inherited from his father.

In his dream, Dare is taking the south side of the herd while his father has the north. He can see the outline of his father on the other side of the cattle. The sun is beating down on them, bright and hot. Molly barks at one of the cattle gone astray and Dare makes his way over to her to help her guide the wayward beast back in toward the herd.

Something nudges his knee and Dare looks down to see a pink glitter dildo held by a man with salt and pepper hair and eyes that are too kind for the cruelty he knows they can deal out.

"You just aren't that bright, are you, Dare?"

"What?" This man doesn't belong here where everything is peaceful and good. 

Dare feels another press to his knee and his eyes snap open. His guard is standing beside his pallet looking down at him.

"The lights came on awhile ago. I let you sleep an extra half hour because of the medication you were given. Time to get up." His guard lowers himself down to remove the bandage on the back of his ankle and Dare pushes himself up to see a fresh tattoo, a bar code.

When he looks curiously at his guard again, the man only takes Dare's arm to remove that bandage too. The bared skin is marred by a healing incision. Dare can see the slight bump of the pump his guard had been speaking about.

A bar code and a pump. The procedure to make him sensitive in a place he doesn't want to be sensitive in. Dare can already feel a slight tickle there, an itch that's asking to be scratched. Upgrades, they had called them.

He raises a hand to rub at the back of his neck where he knows something else was put in. His guard pulls his hand away from his neck and shakes his head. "Shower."

"Sir?" Dare starts to push up from the floor. When he sways a bit, his guard grabs his arm to help steady him. "What's in the back of my neck?"

"A tracker." The guard leads him to the shower and presses the button to turn on the water. He helps Dare get under the spray.

The world feels a little fuzzy still, but Dare works his way through his new morning ritual. He tries not to think about the fact that he now has a bar code and a tracker on his person. Right now it's all he can think about, the so called upgrades. What are these people doing to him?

Dare is about to kneel on his cot again when his guard tells him to follow him. He isn't completely dry yet so walking out in the hallway is cold. He realizes that the cells are temperature controlled to be comfortable.

He's led through the labs to a room where he's laid out on a table and the doctors begin a laser hair removal procedure on Dare's body. When he realizes what's happening he looks to his guard and asks him why they're doing this.

"You do what you're told. That's why." His guard goes on to instruct him that he needs to start asking people if he can please them, because that's what fuck toys do.

Dare has to remind himself that being a fuck toy is better than being a nothing. Dare doesn't want to be nothing.

The first time he asks this question, it's of Doctor Simmons right after the hair removal treatment. He's led into what looks like a separate lab set apart from the main room. There are all kinds of strange contraptions that Dare can't make sense of. Doctor Simmons is sitting in a cozy alcove in a corner of the room where there are three large plush armchairs and two pallets on the floor around a small circular coffee table. Simmons is inhabiting one of the armchairs.

His guard leads him to kneel on one of the pallets and Dare does so. He has to remind himself to spread his legs wider and does that too. Then he clasps his hands behind his back and looks at the doctor. "May I..." He stop-starts, because it feels so strange to ask that of anyone, much less a stranger. "May I please you, Sir?"

Doctor Simmons smiles at Dare and shakes his head. "No thank you, Dare. Not yet. You look much healthier than the last time we met. I'm glad to see it."

"Thank you, Sir." Dare is almost relieved that Doctor Simmons lets him off the hook. He'd also be lying if he said he wasn't a little bit disappointed. He hates that disappointed part of himself.

"How do you like your new room?"

"I... it's cleaner. And brighter."

"That it is. We're going to be working together in this space to make you the best version of yourself. Each pet is different. Each pet requires a different treatment. What I've noticed about you, in watching your videos, is that you don't react hardly at all - not even under the influence of drugs. You internalize everything. You play a mental game, Dare, and the fact that it's an introverted mental game makes it very difficult to know what path your treatment should take." Doctor Simmons pauses, head tilting as he watches Dare. "Do you understand what I'm saying?"

"I wasn't aware I was playing a game."

"Oh, everyone plays games, Dare... even you." The doctor replies. "You're biding your time, taking things as they come at you. You're letting us alter you because you don't fight back. I like that. But I also have a feeling that you could just as easily slip back into the man you were before we saved you. That, I don't like. You're malleable. I want to change that, and change you."

Dare's eyes narrow and he feels the sting of anger for the first time. "Saved me? I was... taken. My dad-"

"Your father is no more. Neither is your mother. You are nobody outside of this place. Here, we can make you somebody. We've saved you, Dare. The sooner you give yourself over to the process, the easier it'll be."

Right now, it's clear to Dare that this guy is nuts. Dare isn't sure that anything he's saying makes sense. He's trying to read between the lines, but Dare has never been very good at that. He's the kind of guy who likes plain spoken people. He doesn't like games. He takes things as they are at face value. This guy is talking both above and around the issue, so Dare tries to boil it down for the both of them.

"You want me to be a fuck toy."

"That's only a piece of the puzzle, Dare.

"Then what do you want? I don't belong here. I have --" What does he have? His dad is gone. Did Molly survive? The ranch hands. He has his dad's ranch... right?

Doctor Simmons seems to understand Dare's train of thought. He nods slowly. "You have us, this place, and what will be your future." The man lets that sink in for a moment before speaking again. "You can please me now, Dare."

Dare's gaze snaps up from the floor to look at the Doctor. He hesitates too long, because he feels his guard's fingers at his shoulder urging him forward.

"Crawl." With that instruction, Dare leans in to get on all fours and crawls to the Doctor. The man spreads his legs and Dare slowly reaches up to start opening his fly. These are dress slacks, not jeans, and Dare has a hard time with them, not realizing there's a hook and not a button.

Finally, he reveals the doctor's cock, slim and long. Dare pauses here, not at all interested in putting this in his mouth. Simmons waits him out just as everyone else here does for the most part. And then Dare finally leans in to take that cock in his mouth and the doctor presses a hand to the back of his head to make him take it deeper. It makes him cough and gag.

In hindsight, he'll be angry with himself for crawling, for so willingly doing this without any restraints, without any force. But that's how Dare has always been, it takes him a bit to catch up to the present. Things here seem to move too fast for him to fully process it until after the fact.

_Because I'm not very smart. I'm stupid._

His chin is grabbed and Dare is made to look up at the doctor. "Why are your eyes tearing up? Do you not enjoy being a fuck toy?"

_I'm nothing without sex._

Dare hates that his mind immediately turns to the script that had saturated his existence in the Catacombs. These people are in his head and he doesn't know how to get them out.

The grip on his chin tightens. "Tell me." Doctor Simmons demands.

"I don't... wanna be stupid. And I don't wanna be nothing."

"But we're trying to change that, aren't we? We're going to make you into something quite spectacular, oddly beautiful and unique." Simmons says, his fingers grazing over the stubble at Dare's jawline. "Do you want to be those things?"

Does he? There's nothing spectacular about Dare. There's nothing unique about him. He's been called handsome before, but beautiful? No. Does he want to be those things?

"I don't-..." Dare trips over the words 'I don't know'. Salt and Pepper had taught him not to say that. He makes himself say what he knows he's supposed to say. "I'm not very smart, Sir. I'm stupid."

"It's alright, Dare. Let us do the thinking for you. We'll get you to where you need to be." Simmons's hand slides to the back of Dare's head again and Dare sucks the man off as best he can. Occasionally the doctor gives him instruction on how to use his tongue, how to breathe through his nose and take him deeper. Dare tries, but he still feels awkward. Doctor Simmons makes Dare drink his cum down and lick him clean.

"That was very nice, Dare. You'll get better at it as time moves along." Doctor Simmons says. "As a pet you'll be required to please men and women alike. We're assuming you've never been with a man. Is that correct?"

"Not before here, Sir." Salt and Pepper and the other Brutes had fucked him quite a bit in the Catacombs.

"But you've been with women."

"Yes, Sir." One woman.

"We want to make sure you're accustomed to both by the time you're in the Mistress's care." The doctor stands up and moves across the room. "Now, it's time for your first treatment. Jerome, bring him over here."

That's the first time Dare has heard his guard's name. Jerome grabs one of Dare's arms and helps him to his feet. Dare is led to the strangest contraption he's ever seen. He's told to spread his legs and straps are placed at his ankles to keep them in place. His wrists are put into straps out to his sides. Then the doctor starts to put nodes connected to a machine by thin red wires onto his body. They're attached to his nipples, his brow, his cock and balls.

A metal cylinder is lubbed and pushed into his ass. It's the first time anything has been in there since the upgrades and it's startling how much he _feels_ it. He catches himself groaning and both the doctor and his guard have a good laugh over it.

When Dare casts a worried glance to his guard, Jerome gives him a reassuring nod.

What happens next is truly terrifying. Doctor Simmons attaches spider like clamps around Dare's eyes to keep him from blinking. Drops are put into his eyes and an IV is put into the vein at one of his arms.

In front of him is a large screen that the doctor projects images onto. The images shift too quickly for Dare to really decipher them. Then whatever drug is in the IV starts to work and Dare relaxes into the moment. He occasionally feels a little spark of electricity from the nodes attached to his skin, a pulse of vibration from the metal in his ass. It makes him jerk in the restraints each and every time. He can't tell if it feels good or bad and that makes it all the more disconcerting.

Dare is left like this for a very long time. Jerome stands guard close by. Doctor Simmons takes readings from the machine and seems to be taking notes in a laptop notebook. Dare knows he should be uncomfortable but the drugs have him calm, watching the ever changing images and startling with each pulse of vibration and shock of electricity.

Eventually, from behind, the doctor puts some earbuds in Dare's ears. The sound coming through them is his own voice, along with Salt and Pepper. Those questions. Dare's answers. Sometimes he thinks he can hear whispered words in between, intertwined with the script he knows so well. Again and again he listens to the back and forth on repeat until his mind is numb to everything but what he's experiencing right now.

Dare is so deep into it that when all of it stops so abruptly, it's shocking. His mind isn't sure where he is or what's been happening for the last two hours.

A different voice than his own and Salt and Pepper's slices through his haze. 

"There now. You did very well." Doctor Simmons begins to remove spider clamps from his eyes, the nodes and the silver cylinder. Dare is surprised to find that he's aroused. "Now we'll do something a little bit more fun. Jerome? Your assistance? He'll probably have a little trouble standing on his own for a bit."

Jerome helps Dare back over to one of the cushioned pallet where he's made to kneel. His guard doesn't let him off the hook, reminding him to spread his knees wider.

When the doctor returns, he places two bottles of nail polish on the table. One is black. The other is pink glitter. "You're free to choose which color you want to paint your nails, Dare."

"My nails, Sir?" Dare has never painted his nails.

"Yes. You get to paint your nails."

He _gets_ to paint his nails. Okay, then. Dare looks between the two nail polishes. The pink glitter reminds him of the dildo Salt and Pepper had used on him. The black is, well, it's black. Dare is naturally drawn to the black over the pink glitter. But there's also something about the pink glitter that calls to him. It's strange. He isn't sure why he'd ever want pink glitter nail polish.

In the end, he chooses the black. The doctor doesn't seem disappointed in him, although he types away on his laptop while Dare starts to paint his nails. He admittedly isn't very good at it, getting some of the polish on the skin around his nails.

As he's waiting for them to dry, Dare's mind is still scattered. He hears his questions and answers. He's still trying to understand what those images were for. He has no idea.

"How are you feeling, Dare?" the doctor asks.

How is he feeling? Dare looks at the doctor for a long moment before answering. "Confused, Sir."

"That's to be expected." Simmons smiles and nods at Dare. "Your nails look pretty, don't they?"

Is pretty the right word for black nail polish? He supposes it does look pretty, even though it's strange to see it on his own fingernails. "Yes, Sir."

"Do you remember where you're from, Dare?"

What kind of a question is that? Of course he remembers where he's from. Only when he starts to answer, the words don't come. "Uhm... yeah." He nods, brow furrowed in thought. How can he not remember where he's from? His dad's sprawling ranch in...

"Do you?" Doctor Simmons prompts.

Dare continues to think, but then eventually has to resign himself to shaking his head. He can't remember. Why can't he remember.

"That's okay, Dare. What are you?"

This answer comes to him immediately. "I'm a fuck toy, Sir."

"Very good."


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is a short(?) story of one of the minor original characters in [A Lion Tamed](http://archiveofourown.org/series/435904). It can stand on its own but reading about the world of A Lion Tamed is a good idea.
> 
> The world is very dark and twisted. If you are triggered by non-consensual rape elements, this isn't the fic for you.

The next day is full of resting. He kneels on his pallet and stares intently at the floor and Jerome's back where he stands sentinel just outside of Dare's cell and the man kneeling on his own pallet across the hallway. Sometimes the man across the hall and Dare catch each others' gaze and hold it for long periods of time, as if to say to one another 'I see you' 'you're somebody' 'there's more to us than this'.

Dare spends a lot of the day trying to remember where his father's ranch is located. How can he forget such a thing? He's lived there his whole life. He's known nothing but the ranch, helping his dad out there, his whole life. It makes no sense to him.

It's just when the lights have gone out and he lays back down on his pallet to sleep that the answer comes to him. Texas. He's from Texas.

The next day, when he's led into Doctor Simmons' lab after his morning routine and the laser hair treatment, he's all too excited to tell the doctor about his memory.

Dare kneels on one of the pallets and it's the first thing out of his mouth. "I'm from Texas, Sir. I remembered. I don't know why I couldn't remember it, but I remember now."

"But you forgot what you're supposed to ask first."

Immediately, Dare's pride at having remembered such an inconsequential thing about his life from before deflates. He looks down to the floor and murmurs the words. "May I please you, Sir?"

"You may. Bring her in."

Jerome goes to the doors to the lab and a naked woman enters the room, followed by an armed guard that's dressed similar to Dare's guard. The woman is brought in to kneel on the pallet beside him. Dare's insides twist uncomfortably at the knowledge of what they'll tell him to do now.

"Dare, this is a hole for you to fuck. It would please us for you to fuck it."

A hole? Dare remembers some of the people in the snuff films he'd been made to watch and listen to being called holes. This girl, with tanned skin and dark hair, won't even look up from the ground. She won't look at him. She's still a person, not a hole.

He starts to shake his head and looks at Doctor Simmons. "Sir..."

"Make yourself ready, hole."

The woman lies back on the floor, legs spread. Her fingers slide down between her legs over tight curls. Her body is marked with bruises and bite marks that makes Dare feel horrible for her, on her behalf. Does he really have to do this?

"Do what you're told, Dare." His guard says.

"You said that you have been with women before, correct?" Doctor Simmons asks.

"Yes, Sir. But I don't know this woman."

The other three men in the room all chuckle. But it's the doctor who speaks. "Oh that's very sweet, Dare. But it doesn't care if you know it. The hole needs to be fucked. Just like you do. Feel free to tell it how pretty it is though. I think you'd make a very good flirt."

It? She's a person. Dare is still a person too. Right?

Any excitement Dare might have had at knowing where he's from is forgotten. Maybe he even forgets where he's from again. They want him to have sex with a stranger. Yes, he's had strangers fucking him, and that wasn't okay either, but this is different in so many ways.

"I can't."

"Do you want to go back to the blackout room?" Doctor Simmons asks.

That small closet-sized room that was dark where it was only him and those occasional sounds over the speakers and nothing else. Dare thinks some intrinsic part of him broke in that room. "No, Sir."

"We could put you back in the concrete room, but I assure your stay won't be so nice as it was before. We've been trying to treat you very delicately, Dare, because of what and who you are." The doctor says. "But that could change."

Because of what and who he is? A fuck toy? A sissy boy? Is Dare those things? It's starting to feel like it's too much again, like things are moving too fast. The walls of this massive room feel too tight, like they're closing in around him.

"Do what you're told, Dare." Jerome says again.

Dare slowly shifts so that he's kneeling between the woman's knees. It's like he's outside of himself, looking down on the entire thing as he leans over the woman and tells her she's pretty, that her skin is smooth and perfect, that she smells good, which she does.

She seems to soak all of these things up, inviting him closer and quietly begging him for more in the way her body shifts and she hums her pleasure, the way her hands smooth over his skin in just the right way. 

When he pauses, thinks about stopping and going back to the blackout room, the woman's hand finds his and guides him toward those tight curls and a heated plush of skin between her thighs. Instinctively, he pushes a finger between the folds, feeling her already wet and warm. He pushes a finger up inside and presses his thumb to the bundle of nerves on the outside. She makes the most wanton of sounds at that, her body arching up off of the floor.

"Enough preamble." Doctor Simmons says. "Fuck the hole, Dare."

Dare isn't sure if he imagines it or not, but when he looks down into the glazed over eyes of the woman he's supposed to fuck, he thinks he sees her give him a nearly non-existent nod. Still, Dare hesitates.

"Don't make us tell you again." Jerome prompts, and this time his voice isn't the monochromatic tone Dare is accustomed to. It's tight with what sounds like a dangerous sort of anger.

So Dare does what he's told. How he's hard right now, as he pushes himself inside of her, he has no idea. There's nothing about being made to rape a clearly drugged woman with three other men watching him that's arousing to him. In fact, Dare has been hard alot lately and he wonders if it's something to do with his so-called upgrades.

He goes through the motions in this strange, out of body moment. And when the doctor tells him that he isn't making love to her, to speed it up and fuck her, Dare does that too. He pulls her hips up and starts to fuck her. Harder, the doctor says, and Dare fucks her harder until he doesn't question why he's aroused anymore, he just _is_.

The woman reaches orgasm and Dare is told not to cum. It's easier said than done when he's so damn close to it. He's told to let go of her and he does. Her guard hauls her up and takes her away, leaving Dare alone and hard as a rock with just his guard and the doctor.

"Next time, when you're told to do something, you will do it immediately. Your life here can be very good, or it can be very bad. That's up to you." Doctor Simmons stands and directs Jerome to help him strap Dare into the same contraption as two days ago.

Again, nodes are placed all over Dare's body, the metal cylinder in his ass, an IV in his arm and the spider clamps on his eyes to keep them open. He's forced into a haze of images and electric shock, all while the vibration in his ass drives him insane. He vaguely feels hands touching him here and there and has no idea who it is or why.

It's hours later and Dare is lost in whatever world they've built for him on this contraption when it's finally shut off. The bits and pieces are removed from his body and Jerome helps him to go kneel on the pallet in the sitting area.

Dare is still in a groggy, surreal state of mind when Doctor Simmons speaks to him. "Where are you from, Dare?"

"Uhm..." He's known this moments before, hasn't he? Dare furrows his brow, thinking. It's like the answer is there, but hidden to him.

"You don't know?"

But Dare isn't supposed to say those words. His features fall into something resigned as he shakes his head. "I'm not very smart, Sir. I'm stupid."

"That's okay, Dare. Do you have any family?"

Does he? He thinks he does, but he can't remember them right now. What's wrong with him? "I d-don't..." He pauses, then shakes his head again. "I'm not very smart, Sir. I'm stupid."

"Yes, but we're helping you with that, aren't we? Look at me." When Dare looks up, Doctor Simmons is leaning in close. His fingertips gently caress Dare's face. "You are not alone. You have me and you have Jerome. You have a whole life of people waiting for you once you become who you were always meant to be. Understood?"

Dare doesn't understand. But he nods anyway and answers in the affirmative. "Yes, Sir."

"Good. Now. I want you to pick a color." Simmons leans back and sets two bottles of nail polish on the table. One is black. One is pink glitter. "You get to paint your nails again."

When Dare unclasps his hands from behind his back, he finds that the black nail polish from two days ago is gone. They must have removed it while he was strapped into the contraption. He eyes the two bottles, realizing now that this must be a test of some kind.

His gaze lingers on the pink glitter. Again, it makes him think of Salt and Pepper from the concrete room in the Catacombs. He kind of misses Salt and Pepper now... which he knows is strange. Still, in the end he picks up the black polish and proceeds to paint his nails. Guys don't wear pink glitter nail polish. And this is, perhaps, Dare's one small way of fighting back.

As the polish dries, the doctor asks him questions about his life from before. There are only two that he knows the answer to, two out of too many other things that are lost to him right now. Then Simmons finishes up with the questions and answers that Dare knows by heart.

His name is Dare. He's a fuck toy. He lets people fuck him. He's only good at sex, only sex, nothing else. Without sex, he's nothing. He has a cunt and a pussy. And right now, the only thing he can take heart in is that he's wearing black nail polish.

 

* * *

 

When they exit Doctor Simmons' labs this time, there's an armed escort of four other men that hadn't been there the last time. Dare is confused by that, but they lead him through the facility to the hallway that has his cell in it. The glass slides away and Dare steps inside. It always smells like someone has cleaned while he's been away, and he's sure they have.

Dare is about to kneel on his pallet when Jerome surprises him with a hand around his neck, pushing him backward and backward until his back is pressed to the mirror at the opposite end of the room.

"How you act, reflects on me. Do you understand?" Jerome hisses into Dare's face and then slaps him hard. "I get that you're a stupid shit. But you have to get some very _simple_ things right."

There's another slap to Dare's face and Dare quickly apologizes for whatever he did wrong. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry."

"When you're around anyone, what do you ask? First thing?"

Oh. Yes, Dare knows he did that wrong. "I ask if I can please them, Sir."

The next hit is a punch and Dare's jaw aches. He tastes blood in his mouth. Jerome grips his jaw tightly to get his attention again. "And when you're told to do something?"

Something like fuck a stranger? That kind of something? Dare wants to spit the words at his guard, but he knows it would be a horrible idea right now. "I do it."

"Yes. So easy. But you fuck it up somehow." Jerome hits Dare again, lifts a knee into his gut that makes Dare double over. "Get on your knees."

Dare slips to his knees on the cold floor and before he knows it, Jerome's cock is in his mouth. His guard isn't gentle about the way he fucks his throat. Dare is crying, coughing and gagging by the time it's over. His guard makes him bend over and lick up whatever cum doesn't make it into his belly.

"Now, these are my friends. You're going to ask if you can please each one of them, and do what they say. No hesitation, no questions. Just do it."

The next hour is a mess of having cock in his mouth and in his ass, of his asking again and again if he can please these strange men, four other guards. These men aren't gentle either. Dare feels like it lasts forever before they're finally done with him. But finally, the men leave and Jerome snaps his fingers and points to Dare's pallet.

Dare crawls to his pallet, feeling used in every way, aching and tired. His throat feels raw and his ass stings. He kneels there with his eyes on the floor for a very long time, thinking about this entire day and how horrible it's been from start to finish. When he looks up, the man across the way is watching him with a sad sort of expression. Dare can't bring himself to keep looking at him, so he doesn't. Maybe there isn't more to him than this.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is a short(?) story of one of the minor original characters in [A Lion Tamed](http://archiveofourown.org/series/435904). It can stand on its own but reading about the world of A Lion Tamed is a good idea.
> 
> The world is very dark and twisted. If you are triggered by non-consensual rape elements, this isn't the fic for you.

When the lights click on and Dare wakes up the next day he hurts even worse than he had the night before. Still, he wants today to be better than yesterday, so he pushes up and moves into the shower. On the way he glances at himself in the mirrored walls and can see bruises forming on his face after the beating he took yesterday. There are also bruises on the rest of his body.

He pushes the button to start the shower and when he steps inside he feels that the water is freezing. When he steps back out, he finds Jerome staring at him from the other side of the glass. This is part of his punishment.

Dare makes himself slip back into the shower and goes through the motions quickly as possible. He washes and cleans himself inside and out, then shivers as he stands just outside the shower to brush his teeth at the sink. The entire room feels freezing, enough of a difference to make it clear that the temperature has been purposefully lowered.

Lesson learned. What is given can be taken away.

He kneels on his pallet and when the food is brought in, he half expects it to be watery, tasteless slop. But no, it's the food he's grown accustomed to here. This morning it's apple cinnamon oatmeal and toast with a bowl of fresh fruit. Dare eats it up quickly before it can be taken away, just in case it was a mistake.

Later, Dare still can't seem to get the chill from that morning's shower out of his bones. The occasional shiver ripples through him uncomfortably. His room is so cold.

Jerome enters his cell and lowers down in front of him. Dare immediately asks the question. "May I please you, Sir?"

When his guard reaches for his chin, Dare instinctively flinches and Jerome's fingers chase him anyway to grab hold none too gently. "You never back away, never flinch. You let people touch you. Whoever wants to touch you, they can. Understood?"

Dare nods. "Yes, Sir."

"I don't wanna be angry with you. I want you to do what you should do and have a good life here." Jerome's fingers are tracing where Dare knows the bruises are. "But I'm not gonna get in trouble because of you. You gotta understand that too."

The implication here is that if Dare fucks up, Jerome gets in trouble too. Dare isn't sure if that's true, but it's what he's gleaning from Jerome's words and he files that information away.

"So you're gonna start thinking about things before you do them. You think about what's expected of you and you should always be one step ahead of yourself and others. You're less likely to get in trouble if you're doing what's expected of you."

Jerome pauses, his thumb running over Dare's busted bottom lip. "I feel like there's still a part of you that thinks this is temporary. It's not. There's no escape from the Gallery, Dare. Once in the Gallery, always in the Gallery. I want you to say that."

"Once in the Gallery, always in the Gallery." Dare whispers the words.

"There's no escape." Jerome shakes his head and then indicates that Dare should repeat that too.

"There's no escape."

"Good boy. You're gonna start saying that to yourself ten times every morning. Learn it, memorize it, know it by heart." Jerome nods and leans in to kiss Dare. Dare kisses him back even though it makes his lips sting. "Today we have another hair removal treatment. When we get back, I'll have the heater on in here so you can get warm. What do you say to that, Dare?"

"Thank you, Sir."

"Are you gonna do better for me from here on out?" Jerome asks.

"Yes, Sir."

Jerome smiles then. "Good."

 

* * *

 

The next few weeks are much of the same. Dare sees Doctor Simmons for treatments four days every week where he's drugged and put into the contraption and made to watch pictures that flash before him too quickly for him to register. Then he kneels and talks to Doctor Simmons for some time, before he's told to pick a nail polish and paint his nails. He's still picking black.

Twice a week he's taken to hair removal treatments. Every morning Jerome gives him some kind of medicine and makes him repeat the words "Once in the Gallery, always in the Gallery. There's no escape." ten times before his shower. It becomes a part of the routine.

Sometimes Dare and the other man across the way stare at one another and Dare imagines they're holding entire conversations with just their eyes.

In his sessions with Doctor Simmons, sometimes Dare is made to have sex with others. Sometimes he's the bottom and sometimes he's the top. Sometimes it's with men and sometimes it's with women. All while the Doctor and Jerome, and sometimes other guards, watch.

Doctor Simmons, along with Jerome, has demanded that he respond to everything in kind. When the Doctor compliments him, Dare compliments the Doctor. He's to say yes sir and no sir and even expand on those two words. They want him to speak and Dare has a very hard time with that. Words don't come easily to him for some reason. He has to get better at it though, because it's expected.

Dare has lost himself. He knows he's never really dealt with how he ended up in this place. But then, so many memories have been stripped away from him that he doesn't feel as if he could properly deal with it anymore. There is no backward for him because he can't remember what was in his past. There's only forward. He's searching for an identity, anything to set him apart from the pets in the cells he passes by every day.

"My name is Dare." He whispers this to himself often, because it's the only thing he knows is absolutely, unquestionably, real.

Forward. He has to move forward. And what's in front of him? He isn't sure. There's nothing behind him though, just a bunch of unanswerable questions and blank space where an entire life used to be.

It's been almost a month since Jerome and the guards beat him up. Dare has been on his best behavior since then. He does what he's told. He questions nothing.

Dare is being led into Doctor Simmons's lab for another session. His mind is numb because he feels as if he's in a walking stasis. There is no past and he has no idea what the future is. There's only now. His emotions are stunted because he has no one to think about, nothing to feel for anyone except for Jerome, Doctor Simmons, and the man in the cell across the hall from him. Those three people are his world and he's almost excited for any interaction he can get from any of them. Without them, he lacks any stimulation.

No past. No future. Only now.

"Well here's my favorite patient." Doctor Simmons smiles at him.

Dare smiles back, knowing he's expected to respond in kind, to flirt his way through the interaction. Lately, he can even imagine that it might be genuine on both ends. "And here's my favorite Doctor. Did you miss me?"

"Always." Doctor Simmons says. "And I'm certain you were waiting with baited breath until your next treatment."

"If it means I get to see you, then hell yeah." Dares says, stepping closer to the Doctor, a slight grin on his lips, his hands clasped behind his back. "May I please you, Sir?"

"Afterward, if you're good."

"He'll be good." Jerome guides Dare to the contraption with a hand on his shoulder and starts to strap him into it while Doctor Simmons hooks up the IV full of drugs and the nodes are connected to his body.

Dare can feel the drugs immediately start to take affect. He can't tell a difference with the drugs he's given every morning and has no idea what they're for. The drugs Doctor Simmons gives him, they make the world a little softer around the edges. They make his heart simultaneously ricochet up into his throat in spite of a softer world. The drugs make him vaguely afraid and anxious; of what exactly, he doesn't know.

The spider clamps hold his eyes open and Dare is made to watch as too many images flash across the large screen across from him. He can never tell what, exactly, he's looking at. He's made to take it all in though, they electrodes sending tiny pulses of electricity through his body at random moments that Dare can't understand. This lasts for an hour and a half until the Doctor finally turns everything off.

After he's unstrapped and all needles and apparatuses are removed, Jerome helps to get him over to the pallet on the floor in the seating area. Dare's mind feels numb as he kneels there, waiting, with his hands clasped behind his back.

He's left alone for several minutes before Doctor Simmons sits across from him. The Doctor asks all the same questions that Dare is always asked. Dare answers all the questions correctly. He knows those answers by heart. And yes, now he believes all those answers to be true. He's a fuck toy and he lets people fuck him. It's the only thing he's good at. Without sex, he's nothing.

Then Simmons asks him something new. "Do you find me attractive, Dare?"

Dare's gaze snaps up to look at the Doctor. Jerome told him to do what's expected of him. Even in his post treatment haze, Dare knows what's expected. He's supposed to flirt. Flirting is coming more easily to him. And really, for a man, Doctor Simmons is attractive enough. So he smirks and nods. "Well yeah. Have you looked in a mirror lately?"

The doctor seems satisfied with this and smiles and nods. "You're sweet, Dare. I got you a gift."

"Which makes you the sweet one, Sir." Dare tosses back.

Simmons snaps his fingers and one of his nurses brings a small paper bag. The bag is black with hot pink tissue paper peeking out of it. He holds the bag out to Dare and Dare takes it.

Once he removes the tissue paper, he finds some pale pink lace panties inside and a matching bra. He's surprised that he isn't necessarily repulsed by them, by _why_ they might be for him. But he is a little confused and he looks up to the doctor with that confusion clear on his features.

"Do you like them?"

Like them? Does he? Is this what he usually wears? He can't remember. Why can't he remember anything? It would be rude to say he doesn't like them, right? And he can't tell if he should like them or not. "Yeah, they're pretty, Sir." When the Doctor just watches him expectantly, the silence becomes too much for Dare and he has to fill it. "Want me to put them on?"

"I would like that, yes." The doctor seems pleased with him again and Dare is almost relieved of that fact.

Dare stands up and pulls on the boy short lace panties. Then he kneels again and on goes the bra. His fingers fumble with the hooks at his back as if they aren't sure how to work them, which, they probably aren't. Both his doctor and his guard are patient with him even though it takes him some time to get the back clasped.

"How pretty you are." Doctor Simmons says. Then his gaze dips to the bag. "There's more."

Dare reaches into the bag and finds a rubber plug like what he's seen other pets wearing. Only this one is pink with flecks of glitter in it, like the vibrating dildo Salt and Pepper had used on him.

"Bring it here."

On all fours, Dare crawls over to Doctor Simmons and hands over the plug. Simmons opens the fly of his dress slacks and pulls his cock out, the demand clear without his having to say a word. Dare takes the doctor into his mouth, having grow so much better at this than he remembers being the first time. He's taught himself to breathe through his nose and take cock deep into his throat. He knows how to use his tongue in all the right ways and that it's okay, at least with the doctor, to use his hands as well.

Behind him, he feels Jerome lift his hips up. He feels the back of his panties pulled down and then the cool slick of lubricant as it's spread around and inside his hole. 

It's harder to pay attention to what his mouth is doing with that delicious friction in his ass, amplified by Doctor Young's experiments. But Doctor Simmons's fingers pet at Dare's cheek and jaw to keep him engaged in sucking his cock.

Dare expects to feel the plug, but instead feels Jerome's cock pushing inside of him. He gasps, Simmons's cock slipping out of his mouth, and wantonly pushes back on the intrusion, his body both wanting and needing what's being done to him.

Who the hell is he? Dare doesn't know himself anymore. He's trying to figure out who he is now and he has no answers except for these experiments, his three people, and now pink lace.

"Does that feel good, Dare? Do you like cock in your ass?" Doctor Simmons asks, taking his own and gliding the tip over Dare's lips leaving behind a smear of glistening precum.

Does he? Yes. "Yes, Sir." His voice is deep and breathy. "It feels fan-fuckin-tastic."

The doctor and Jerome laugh at that then cups the back of Dare's head to make him take his cock again while Jerome fucks him from behind. 

For awhile, everything is this, the way Jerome fills him up and the way being fucked makes him feel, the way Simmons's cock tastes, the way both the doctor and his guard continually slide their fingers over and beneath the lace of his bra and panties just to remind him he's wearing them.

Simmons spills in his mouth first and Dare drinks it down. Then Jerome finishes off and secures his spill inside of Dare with the pink glitter plug. His guard pulls the panties back up over his ass, adding a slight pressure to the plug.

"You've gotten so much better at that, Dare. Your mouth is paradise." Doctor Simmons says.

There's no invitation for Dare to finish himself off or for them to help him cum. At this point, he knows that that means he isn't allowed to right now. It takes Dare a moment to realize that the doctor is waiting for him to reply as he should. "Paradise? Then you have an open-ended vacation, Sir."

The doctor smiles then and holds out two bottles of nail polish, one black and one pink glitter. Dare stares at them for a long moment before Simmons urges him not to keep him waiting. He initially intends to go for the black, but when his hand comes away it's holding the pink glitter.

"I think that's a very good choice." Simmons nods.

His guard pets his hand back through Dare's now shoulder length hair. "It'll match the gifts Doctor Simmons gave you."

He chose pink. That fact is startling to Dare after so long of choosing the black. 

Dare kneels on his pallet again and sets the pink bottle on the table. He starts to paint his nails. The color goes on thick and bright. He can add this to the list of things he's moving forward to: he likes lace and pink glitter nail polish. Right? Yes, he thinks that's right.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Kudos and comments are love!


End file.
